


Together Again

by Deans_Fetish



Series: Supernatural RPF/Criminal Minds Crossover [2]
Category: Criminal Minds, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bondage, Drugging, F/M, Graphic Violence, Hostage/Kidnapping, Hurt!Danneel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Schmoop, Swearing, Torture, Whipping, hurt!Jared, hurt!Jensen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:32:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 86,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9089635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deans_Fetish/pseuds/Deans_Fetish
Summary: Jared has been out of the hospital for six weeks and life at Jensen and Danneel’s place is pretty good. Supernatural has gone on without him, as per his request, but Jared still receives fan mail nearly every day. Danneel continues to spoil the hell out of him and what she doesn’t do, Jensen rushes in, when he isn’t on set, and takes care of. Together they’ve managed to give Jared a place where he can feel safe and loved and cared for while he continues to heal and grow stronger both physically as well as emotionally. All things considered, things seems to be going pretty well for Jared Padalecki. That is until a death threat inscribed into the flesh of a murder victim directs the police right back to Jared’s doorstep. It’s then that Agent Hotchner and his team are called back to the City of Angels, where once again they must hunt down a mad man before it’s too late.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Criminal Minds crossover with the “Supernatural brat pack”. It is a sequel to the fiction entitled **Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder**. A special thanks goes out once again to Jeff Davis for the creation of Criminal Minds, the set up and some of the words used within this fiction. A special thanks also goes out The Mark Gordon Company and CBS Television/ABC Studios. 
> 
> **Please note:** The author has taken liberties with some of the “facts” herein.

_"When you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you."_ ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

It was fall and the leaves around the secluded ranch style home were brilliantly hued in shades of gold, red and orange. The sun at this time of year seemed to remain quite warm during the daylight hours; it was only at after the sun sank behind the mountainous hills in the west that the distinctive coolness associated with late autumn crept in. 

Jared sat in his wheel chair out on the deck, soaking up the last rays of the setting sun while he watched Danneel toil in her small flower garden taking care of the roses and chrysanthemums that she had planted only months before. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail, her Capri jeans cuffed to just below her knees. She wore a spaghetti strap tank top beneath an light colored, thin over shirt, the fact of which had Jared’s lips pulling into a slight smirk, the thought that she indeed looked like a wife of the one and only Dean Winchester rolling around in his head. 

Green gardening gloves covered her hands and she was bent over at the waist, kneeling on a small step stool like contraption that was supposed to be better on her knees than the ground, though Jared really didn’t understand why, and digging out weeds that had sprung up around the vividly hued buds. 

She pulled back from what she had been busily working at, sitting back on her heels as she lifted her gaze to Jared and offered him a warm smile. 

“How ya doin’ over there?” She called cheerfully.

Jared nodded, “Better than you,” he replied with a teasing grin. 

Danneel sighed as she lowered her gaze to the plants in front of her and nodded. Jared had a good point, she’d spent the afternoon working at the flower bed and it didn’t seem like she was making the least bit of headway. 

Lifting her attention back to Jared she nodded as she climbed to her feet, “I think Jensen’s just gonna have to _buy_ me flowers, I can’t grow them for shit,” she agreed disgustedly while using her hands to brush dirt from the ass of her jean Capri pants and knees. 

She made her way toward the deck on which Jared sat facing the settling sun, the sunglasses that he’d been ordered by the doctors to wear any time he was out side in direct sunlight shielding his eyes from the blinding rays and protecting the eye that he still was unable to see more out of than just swirls of light and dark shadows. 

“What do you say we go on inside and start supper? Jensen should be home soon, he and Misha’s plane landed a couple hours ago,” she suggested happily, her perfectly plucked brows lifting as she spoke. 

Jared nodded as his lips pressed into a thin line. It still hurt to think about the show going on without him, about not being one of those getting off the plane in L. A. and coming home to a loved one. He missed the fact that he and Jensen could spend all that time in Vancouver together alone, just the two of them; other than the few nights now and again that they invited Misha over for dinner and sat up half the night, all three of them, playing stupid board games like a bunch of stupid geeks. 

Truthfully, stepping back had been what he had wanted to do, still did, he didn’t want to disappoint the fans simply because something had happened to him that he didn’t want the world to see, didn’t want plastered all over the media. And he also didn’t want them to have to write it into Sam’s story line. The poor Winchester had been though enough in the last couple seasons to add this kind of thing to the plot would have been enough to send the younger Winchester over the nearest ledge in his opinion. 

_Look at the Supernatural star that got mutilated by a mad man, film at eleven…_ No, he definitely didn’t want that. 

It was bad enough that for the first three weeks every news organization and their uncle had called trying to get an interview with him. Some seemed sincere in their wishes to simply get his story while others seemed to blame him, both for Genevieve’s death as well as his own capture, mutilation and near rape almost as much as Mrs. Cortese did. 

Danneel paused in her steps, her lips curving down into a concerned frown as she eyed Jared. 

“Jare,” she murmured, “You okay, hun?” She inquired before crouching down next to his wheel chair, her hand on the arm of it while her other hand rubbed up and down along his arm comfortingly. 

Jared shook away his melancholy thoughts and nodded, “Yeah, I’m okay,” he assured, offering her a tight lipped smile. 

“You sure?” She pressed gently. 

“Mm-hmm, I’m sure,” he reassured with a nod. 

Danneel nodded and pulled up to her full height, “You want me to push your chair?” she offered. 

Jared shook his head as he reached for the wheels, “Nah, I got it,” he responded. 

Danneel offered a smile and a nod, “Okay,” she allowed as she turned and headed into the house, pausing at the door as she held it open for him. 

Jared worked at his chair, turning it toward the door, something he had only just begun to do after the first few weeks of refusing to do anything once Jensen and Misha got him in it other than sit there and mope. 

He had come out of that funk only a couple weeks ago, sometime after Jensen had been forced to leave due to filming. He’d spent ever night of his last week in California in Jared’s bed with him, holding Jared when the nightmares came and talking softly to him about what had happened and how he was so proud of Jared and how brave he’d been. 

Somehow after that, Jared had been able to pick himself up off the preverbal floor and dust himself off and began to be an active member of the human race again though he still needed Danneel’s help to transfer from his chair to the bed and visa versa. The first time they had attempted such a feat they’d both wound up sprawled on the floor. It’d been a miracle that he hadn’t seriously injured Danneel and they both knew it despite the fact that later she had laughed it off as though it were nothing. 

Luckily, after a few more attempts, the two of them got the hang of it. And now, he was moving all over the place pretty much unrestrictedly as long as his wheelchair could go there, so could he. Which made the upstairs area of the house pretty well off limits to him, luckily however the only things up there were a spare room where Misha tended to camp out when he was over too late to make driving home safe, and Jensen and Danneel’s master suite, along with the master bath and a large closet that Danneel kept pretty well every single thing that he and Jensen received from the fans of the show in. They all sort of joked about the fact that one day they were going to open the door to the closet to put something else in and wind up having a landside that they’d all be buried under and no one would ever see any of them ever again. 

He was sort of excited for Jensen to see what he had accomplished, with Danneel’s help of course. 

He wheeled himself past Danneel and into the house, heading for the kitchen. He and Danneel had gotten into kind of a habit where he would do things like peel potatoes for her while she readied the other food or clean the chicken or make hamburger into balls for spaghetti supper. He knew, in the back of his mind, that Danneel probably didn’t need his help, but there was something sinister and foreboding about going into the living room to sit all alone while she worked at fixing their dinner that he didn’t really want to deal with or look at too closely, at least not right now. It was too soon after everything that had happened and thinking on it would only bring on the nightmares that seemed to always be only a shadow away from him no matter what he did or where he went. 

“So, I was thinking of chicken parmesan and a Caesar salad for dinner, what do you think?” Danneel asked conversationally as she closed the door behind Jared and followed him into the kitchen. 

Jared nodded, lips pressed together in a thoughtful frown, “Sounds good,” he replied knowing it was one of Jensen’s favorite meals. 

Turning his head as he lifted it, he looked back at her with a knowing smile curving his lips. 

She smiled down into Jared’s upturned face and she side stepped behind him and into the work area of the kitchen, behind the long wooden counter that served as both a cutting area for vegetables and what have you as well as a breakfast bar, especially since the lower section of it that curved around the end of the higher bar-counter type area where Jensen and she had bar stools placed around it was the perfect height for Jared’s wheelchair. 

“Good,” she concurred with a nod as she reached for and curled her hand around the refrigerator door handle, tugging it open. 

As Danneel pulled out the items they would need to make dinner, Jared wheeled himself closer to the counter and reached for the cutting board that leaned on its side up against the partition between the lower counter and the higher one. Placing it in front of himself on the counter he awaited Danneel to place items in front of him that he would need to chop up as well as the butcher knife that sat in the knife block next to the stove near where she stood. 

Turning around with items in hand for Jared to chop, Danneel paused and lifted her brows pointedly at him. 

“Sun’s not out in here, Jare,” she scolded. 

Jared frowned and reached up with one hand tugging his sunglasses off his face, tossing them onto the counter in front of him. 

Danneel smiled with satisfaction, “Good,” she repeated with a nod before placing the large knife down first and then the vegetables and the package of chicken for Jared take care of. 

Turning back around toward the cabinets under the stove, she crouched and withdrew a large pot with which to cook the pasta in. Pulling up to her full height she carried it the couple of steps over to the sink and filled it with water before stepping back and reaching into the overhead cabinet for the olive oil, pouring some into the pot along with a dash of salt for flavor, she then placed it on the burner and turned it on to boil. 

“I know you don’t like not wearing them,” she commented as she worked, “But it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” she said with a glance over her shoulder at Jared. 

“And I still think you’re handsome,” she added with a wide grin.

Jared sighed in resignation but Danneel’s smile forced one of his own to the surface despite himself. He hated taking the dark shades off and allowing people to see the damage that had been done to his face, it was bad enough that there was nothing save for perhaps a mask like the one worn by the Phantom in Phantom of the Opera that would hide the long jagged scars that ran along his cheek bone and temple. Nonetheless, it was his eye had the received the worst of the damage, and being able to hide behind the dark lenses helped him to feel a little less exposed. 

Lowering his attention to the ingredients before him he lifted the knife and, unlike the first time he had agreed to help out in the kitchen, he didn’t stare horrified at the blade while memories of his ordeal rendered him nearly catatonic. No, now he picked the knife up and immediately began cutting open the package of chicken as though nothing unseemly had ever happened to him. Pulling the chicken from the package, he placed it on the cutting board and began to cut it into tender bite sized pieces, removing the fat and tendons as he went. It was another step in his recovery, being able to use a knife without those memories haunting him and he was excited to share his progress with Jensen when he arrived home. 

He could already imagine Jensen as he made his way hurriedly through the terminals at the air port with Misha on his tail, gabbing on and on about some crazy ass thing or another and causing Jensen to cackle joyously as they walked. 

That thought had a smile curling Jared’s lips while he worked at cutting up the items for their meal, first the chicken and then after Danneel took that from him along with the soiled cutting board and had handed him both a clean board and the vegetable knife, he started to work on the vegetables for their salad.

During it all, while he cut, minced and crushed and Danneel mixed and stirred and drained the two of them chatted about most anything, nothing of any real substance just things that would past the time and keep them both from pacing to the window over and over to search for any sight of the black SUV that Clif normally picked them up at the airport in. 

Roughly an hour later, give or take fifteen-twenty minutes, dinner was prepared and Danneel had the table set in the dining room yet there was still no sign of Jensen. He hadn’t called to say that he would be late or that his plane had been delayed and Danneel was starting to get worried though she fought to hide the fact from Jared, noting the troubled creased to his brow and the way that he continued to glance toward the door and front window every few minutes as though he could make Jensen appear simply but the power of wishing him there. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Danneel finally blurted as she took her seat at the table, her attention focused on Jared while he stared forlornly toward the front picture window. 

Slowly, as though the action took great effort on his part, Jared tore his gaze from the window and his attention swung to Danneel though he continued to peek at the window from the corner of his good eye. 

“Huh?” he inquired, having not totally been listening, his own thoughts a jumble of ‘what ifs’ and ‘where could he be’s’ all of which worked to fray his already tender nerves. 

“Jensen,” Danneel explained, “I’m sure it’s nothing,” she repeated firmly. 

“His plane probably just got delayed,” she muttered with a nonchalant dismissive wave of a hand despite how her own heart was pounding and her hands trembling with fear. 

Jared nodded though he didn’t speak, returning his attention to the picture window, gazing out of it at the empty front drive. 

_‘Did Jensen call and **say** that his plane was delayed?’_ he thought to himself without needing her to answer since he already knew it. 

No, Jensen had not called and Jensen always calls when something like that came up, always. 

Danneel nervously bit at her lower lip as she lowered her gaze to the table that she had so carefully set, wanting everything to be perfect for when Jensen walked in the door. A candelabra in the center of the table holding four tall white candles flickered, their light gleaming against the silver dining set and the while china plates and cups, the crystal stemware. 

Where was Jensen? Had something happened? Surely nothing like…

Her gaze slowly swung to Jared and despite herself, without wanting to, her eyes tightened into hateful slits of blame, as though Jared had called the fates to do evil upon Jensen. It wasn’t as though that by simply knowing Jared, it had called evil onto Jensen. Deep down she knew that Jared had no more control over the mad men of the world than anyone else did, nevertheless she found her self accusing him in her mind. 

A moment later she nearly gasped in a breath as her thoughts and most likely the unfair and blaming look on her face seemed to suddenly register in her mind and clearing her throat she quickly lowered her gaze to the table top once more. 

“Come on, Jay, let’s eat, the food’s getting cold,” she murmured delicately as she pulled her own napkin out from beneath her silverware. 

Jared shook his head, still staring at the window, “M’not hungry,” he mumbled distractedly. 

Danneel sighed dejectedly and lifted her worried gaze to Jared before her attention followed Jared’s to the window. 

_‘Jenny, where are you?’_ She worried to herself, chewing anxiously at her bottom lip once more. 

The sound of a car pulling up around back drew her attention and a soft gasp broke from between her lips as her eyes widened and met Jared’s equally wide gaze. Scrambling up from the table she tossed her napkin into her empty plate and hurried toward the back door. 

Jared quickly turned his chair in the same direction and followed after Danneel, heading for the back door which opened just as Danneel paused in front of it to reveal a grinning Jensen, his duffel thrown over one shoulder and Misha’s car parked in the back drive behind him. He stepped across the threshold and wrapped his arms around Danneel in greeting, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“Ugh,” he groaned as he hugged her tightly to him, “It’s good to be home,” he muttered before pulling back. 

“Where were you? What happened? You didn’t call…” She questioned gently, her dark eyes filled with concern as she studied his face. 

Jensen stared wide eyed at her a moment, slightly taken aback by all the questions, after all it wasn’t as though it was the first time that he had ever went to Misha’s before coming home after his plane had landed. He searched her face a moment before it finally sunk in as to why she would be getting so upset _now_ more so than any other time in their marriage over such a trivial thing. 

“Oh, man, I’m sorry, baby,” he began as he pulled her into his arms once more. 

He glanced back over his shoulder at Misha in the car and he lifted one hand, waving good-bye while continuing to comfort his wife, his opposite hand running up and down her slender back soothingly. 

Misha honked the horn and lifted a hand, waving back, both in greeting to Danneel and Jared who he could see just beyond the door way, as well as good-bye to Jensen. Turning his head as he lowered his hand, Misha begin backing the car slowly out of the drive. 

“Clif dropped off Mish first and he invited me in to see West,” Jensen began to explain as he pulled back enough that he could gaze into Danneel’s face, “I didn’t plan to be as long as I was. Clif took off when Mish said he’d give me a ride and then we got to talkin’ and I was playin’ with West….” 

Danneel tightened her arms around Jensen, hugging him close once more as she buried her face against his neck and allowed her eyes to slip closed with relief that he was safe and sound. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured softly as he returned her embrace. 

After a moment, Danneel drew in a deep breath and, opening her eyes, eased herself back as she lifted her gaze to his, “Even though I was worried, I’m still not the one that you probably need to apologize to,” she responded softly. 

She took a step back further, her arms slipping from around her husband though one of his remained wrapped about her waist as her attention turned from him to Jared behind them, his brow creased with worry and eyes filled with unshed tears causing his eyes to glisten in the low light. 

“Oh Jare,” Jensen breathed regretfully as he shook his head while slipping his arm from around Danneel. 

Stepping forward, he quickly crossed the distance between himself and his lover and dropped down onto one knee next to Jared’s chair, his pack sliding off his shoulder and onto the floor with the movement. He wrapped his free arm around Jared, gathering him up against him the best he could before slipping his other arm free. He then reached for Jared with that arm too and wrapped it around him tightly along with the first, pulling Jared forward in the chair and into the circle of his arms. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he murmured gently. 

He pressed his lips to Jared’s temple and squeezed his eyes closed as images of Jared trapped and tortured played in the back of his mind, imagining that those were the same kinds of things that had been dancing tauntingly through Jared’s mind in his absence. He kissed him softly where his lips were pressed, nostrils softly flaring with his breaths, the warmth of which fanned against the tender flesh and ruffled Jared’s longish mop-like hair. 

Lifting his arms from the arms of the chair, Jared wrapped them around Jensen and he tucked his face in against the other man’s neck as he squeezed his eyes tightly closed, “I thought…” he whispered brokenly, warm breath and the wetness tears that leaked out from between his tightly closed lids bushed against the tender skin of Jensen’s neck. 

“I know,” Jensen whispered soothingly and turned his head, tucking his own face against Jared. “I know…” 

“Dinner’s ready and on the table,” Danneel murmured as she closed the door and locked it then turned back toward the two men. 

Jensen nodded, his head gently nudging against Jared with each movement, “Okay, we’ll be right there,” he replied softly. 

Danneel nodded her acknowledgement as she walked across the room toward the dining area, giving her husband and his lover their privacy. 

Once Danneel’s footfalls against the bare wood floors drew further away and he knew that they were alone in the room, Jensen eased himself back enough so that he could look into Jared’s tear streaked face. 

He shook his head as he pulled one arm from around Jared, using the pad of his thumb to wipe the wetness of tears from beneath his lover’s eyes, “I never meant to scare you like that, Jay,” he murmured gently, “I’m so sorry.”

Jared nodded as he sniffled softly allowing one arm to slip from around Jensen though his other arm remained, clinging to Jensen tightly, hand fisting in the material of his jacket, “I know,” he allowed, “M’sorry for makin’ such a big deal out of it, I just…” 

“No,” Jensen interrupted firmly, “I get it, I was wrong, I should have called,” he retorted. 

“After everything…” he continued only to allow his words to trail off as he again shook his head. 

Jared’s gaze lowered as he nodded and once again sniffled softly. Swallowing he drew in a somewhat shaky, yet fortifying breath and lifted his head, offering Jensen a weak tentative smile. 

“So how is West?” He inquired in an attempt to change the subject, not wanting to dwell on why it was that he had been so afraid for Jensen. 

“Growin’ like a weed,” Jensen replied with a grin. 

“Misha is teaching him sign language and he’s pretty good at it already,” he went on with a chuckle, “He grabs one of Victoria’s bras and he’s standing there between Mish and me puttin’ his fingers together in what Misha said is the sign for ‘more’,” he laughed. 

Jared chuckled softly, “Oh I bet Victoria loved that,” he commented with a wide grin. “The kid’s getting’ to be as bad as his dad.”

Jensen nodded in agreement before rolling his eyes, “Oh God, let’s hope not, I dunno if the world can handle _two_ of them,” he joked. 

Jensen nodded, his lips still curved into a wide smile, “I dunno if _we_ can handle two of them,” he corrected jovially. 

Slowly their laughter died away and Jensen winked at Jared as he reached for one Jared’s hands and gave it a loving squeeze. 

“Come on, let’s go eat dinner before Danni has both our asses in the doghouse,” he gently suggested. 

Jared nodded as he smiled at Jensen finally releasing the fistful of black leather that he’d hand and allowing Jensen the freedom of movement so that he could pull to his full height. 

Jared waited until Jensen had released his hand and stood before reaching for the wheels of his chair. As Jensen turned, his attention half on Jared behind him as he walked, Jared began wheeling himself after him, following as he made his way into the dining room. 

“Smells good, what’d Danneel make?” Jensen inquired with a glance back at Jared. 

“Chicken parmesan and Creaser salad,” Jared replied. 

“And Jared did all the chopping for me,” Danneel cut in as she passed them on her way to the kitchen. 

Jensen reached out, catching her as she started to pass, “Where ya goin’?” He asked softly. 

“Just gonna go grab the wine,” she replied. 

“I’ll get it; you and Jay go ahead and sit down. I need to toss this thing somewhere anyway,” he murmured, jerking his head toward the bag that he still carried slung over one shoulder. 

Danneel glanced from Jensen’s face to the bag and back, “You sure?” 

Jensen nodded, “Yeah, go on,” he insisted gently. 

“Alright,” she allowed with a smile before leaning in and brushing her lips across his. 

“I love you,” she murmured. 

Jensen smiled, his love for her evident in the depths of his verdant eyes, “Love you too, babe,” he replied with a wink. 

Danneel swung her attention to Jared who sat silently behind them trying to focus on anything but the two people who were his entire world that were standing in front of him, not wanting to encroach on their intimate moment. 

“Come on, Jare,” she invited with a wide smile as she jerked her head toward the dining room. 

“Let’s go have a seat and wait for Jen,” she said then chuckled realizing just what she had said, “Okay, I’ll have a seat, you just come with me,” she corrected, eliciting a wide grin from Jared as he nodded. 

Jensen detoured through the kitchen and headed for the stairs taking them two at a time. Reaching the top landing he turned to the right and headed down the short hallway and into the bedroom he shared with Danneel on the nights that he wasn’t staying downstairs in the bedroom with Jared. He plopped his bag down on the bed and shrugged off the leather jacket that he had on, a groaning sigh escaping his lips as he tossed the leather across one of the wingback colonial style chairs located to the side of the large four poster bed. 

No sooner than he had tossed it down than his cell in the pocket began to ring. 

Reaching for it again he dug a hand into the inside pocket and withdrew his cell. 

“Hello?” Jensen answered. 

“Hey, man, how’s Jay?” Misha answered. 

“Good, he seems good. Danneel had him helpin’ her with dinner. I guess he actually used a knife so that’s pretty big.”

“Oh yeah, that’s wonderful,” Misha murmured happily. 

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Jensen agreed, a wide smile curling his lips and causing the skin at the corners of his eyes to crinkle. 

“Listen I just wanted to call and see about Jare, make sure everything was alright. I kinda noticed it looked like there was somethin’ wrong when you went inside,” Misha explained. 

“Yeah, forgot to call so…” Jensen mumbled with a sigh, his smile falling away to be replaced by a frown of concern. 

“So Jare thought…” Misha concluded with a groan allowing his sentence to trail off. 

“Yeah,” confessed Jensen.

“Oh man, I’m sorry; I wasn’t even thinkin’ when I invited you over like that.” 

“Yeah, no, it’s alright, it’s not your fault. I wasn’t thinkin’ either and I should’a called,” Jensen replied with a shake of his head that Misha couldn’t see. 

“Still,” Misha murmured gently. 

Silence fell between them a moment before Misha finally spoke again. 

“I’m gonna let you go, let ya get back to Jare and your wife.”

“Alright, man, I’ll catch ya later. Maybe we’ll have you and Vic and West over for dinner in a couple days,” Jensen replied. 

“That’d be great, just let me know,” Misha agreed. 

“Okay, will do. Have a good night, Mish,” Jensen responded. 

“You too, and tell everyone hi for me,” Misha replied, “Bye, Jen.”

“Okay, I will. Bye,” Jensen concluded, pulling the cell from his ear and pushing the ‘end’ button. 

He turned off his phone then reached for his jacket, stuffing the cell back inside the pocket before turning and walking out of the room and down the stairs. 

He headed toward the dining room without thought and was near to entering when he remembered the wine and turning, he backtracked his way into the kitchen. 

Reaching the refrigerator he jerked the door open and searched the interior for the bottle of wine he was supposed to grab, finding it in the door rather than on one of the shelves. Wrapping one hand around the neck, he pulled it from its nestled spot along side the gallon of milk and released the door with his other hand, allowing it to swing closed. Turning away from the fridge, he headed into the dining room, a wide smile curling his lips as he was greeted by two sets of eyes looking up at him expectantly. 

“Got the wine,” he murmured as though that wasn’t obvious. 

“Was beginning to think you’d gotten lost,” Danneel commented with a soft smile. 

“Oh no,” Jensen replied with a softly ‘heh’-ed chuckle as he took his seat that the head of the table across from Danneel, “Mish called while I was upstairs, so I was talkin’ to him for a minute,” he explained with a one shouldered shrug as he lowered his attention to the food placed on the table. 

Jared’s gaze lowered as a pang of jealousy hit him, causing his chest to ache. He ducked his head slightly, his eyes lowering to the empty plate in front of him and he suddenly became more aware of the scars on his face and he wished, not for the first time, that he were able to hide them, from the world, from himself, but mostly from Jensen. 

“Looks great,” Jensen praised and lifted his gaze. 

Jensen’s words had Jared’s attention snapping back to him, his lips parted due to being slightly taken aback by them. If he hadn’t known better he would have sworn that in that moment, Jensen had been privy to his inner most thoughts. 

“Smells great,” Jensen added as his gaze swung, first to Danneel then over to Jared with a wink. 

Danneel’s lips curved into a proud and loving smile as he reached across the table for the bottle of wine that Jensen still held in one hand. 

“Okay, Mister Suck-Up, hand over the bottle,” she quipped playfully. 

Jared turned his head, looking back at Danneel, a soft grin tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“Aw, c’mon,” Jensen scoffed in his best ‘Dean’ voice, “that was _so_ not sucking up,” he defended, stretching out his arm that held the wine, handing it over to his wife. 

Danneel chuckled as she plucked the bottle from Jensen’s hand, “Oh sure it wasn’t,” she teased knowingly. 

Jensen returned her chuckle, giving a sheepish shrug, “Yeah well, maybe…” he allowed. 

At Jared’s silence, he turned his attention to him, his wide smile that had made the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle slowly melted away to be replaced by a look of concern at the way Jared was just sitting there staring at the white and blue patterned china in front of him. 

“Jay, what’s wrong?” He inquired. 

Jared shook his head, “Nothin’,” he mumbled. 

Jensen quirked a brow, the action very Dean-esque. “Well, something’s wrong, you look like you lost your best friend,” he retorted. 

_Maybe I did,_ Jared mused sadly. 

His thoughts encompassed several things, the idea that maybe Jensen had found someone else, had decided to leave him behind, as disfigured as he is, and go to Misha; he was a good looking guy and half the fandom had them together in fan fiction already anyway. He also thought of his dogs and the fact that no one had been able to locate them yet despite the fact that all of fandom was searching. Misha had gathered his minions, a section of the fandom that seemed to be able to leap tall buildings in a single bound; or at least take down multimillion user websites with a single keystroke. And Jensen had asked the rest of the fandom to join in as well, together they’ve all been on the look out, maybe even more so than he and Jen and Danneel had been. But alas, there had been no news, no sightings, nothing. He was beginning to think finding them was a total lost cause, just like his face. 

“I was just,” he shrugged a shoulder, “I dunno, thinking of Harley and Sadie, I guess,” he murmured dejectedly. 

“Aw, man,” Jensen murmured reaching a hand toward Jared and laying it on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Hang in there, baby,” he encouraged. 

“Yeah, Jay, everyone is looking and they’re bound to turn up,” Danneel added reassured with nod.

Turning his attention back to Danneel, Jensen pulled his hand from Jared’s shoulder, an amused grin curving his lips and causing the skin at the corners of his eyes to crinkle. 

“You know Misha has every one of his Minions searching?” He commented, brows lifting. 

Danneel leaned closer to the table, her body language making it evident that she was interested in her husband’s words. 

“Well, I know he had asked them before, just like you and Jim had asked the other fans for their help,” she replied with a nod. 

Jensen nodded with a chuckle, “He made it into some sort of scavenger hunt where the winning Minion, the ones who locate Harley and Sadie get to have tea and crumpets with him.”

A light musical laugh broke from Danneel as she shook her head in amusement, “I love Misha, he’s such a wonderful goofball,” she mused. 

Jensen nodded, “Me too,” he agreed, “and yeah, he really is.” 

Jared’s eyes lifted though his head remained ducked, his gaze darting between the two as they talked. He felt another sharp pang of jealously tighten his chest when Jensen admitted to _loving_ Misha. 

Danneel popped the cork from the wine bottle and poured herself a glass then reached a hand toward Jensen’s glass, pausing for him to hand it to her across the table. Once he had and she had poured some of the white wine into his wine glass, she handed it back and brought the bottle to the glass sitting in front of Jared’s plate. It’s been a while since Jared had been allowed to have anything alcoholic to drink, that change, like many others, had actually occurred while Jensen had been gone to Vancouver filming. Before that, due to the pain killers he’d been on he’d opted for iced tea and water at dinner. Filling his glass, Danneel offered Jared a soft smile, then turned her attention back to the table and Jensen as she placed the bottle down. 

“Well, dig in, guys,” she urged. 

With a grin at his wife, Jensen reached for the large bowl of salad. 

Light hearted chatter continued throughout the meal though Jared seemed uncharacteristically quiet and withdrawn and though he didn’t bring it up at the table again, Jensen promised himself that once dinner was over and they were all settled down for the night that he would talk to Jared and see if he couldn’t get him to tell him what it was that was bothering him. He knew that Jared missed his dogs terribly, but he’d thought that he had at least gotten somewhat past brooding over them. Everyone was doing what they could and if they were out there, Harley and Sadie would be found, of that he was certain. 

After dinner, Jensen and Jared helped Danneel clear the table, though Jensen did most of the helping since Jared was unable to really carry anything _and_ wheel his chair. It wasn’t that Jared was actually unable to walk, but the multiple incisions on his torso from the knife wounds that he had received not only pulled and caused Jared pain; they also made standing and moving around rather difficult. And at first, the chair had been useful as well as encouraged by Jared’s doctor. Now, especially since Jared had gotten to where he really didn’t take his pain killers, wasn’t in the excruciating pain that he had been in for those first few weeks after he had been released from the hospital, the chair had become as much of a crutch and safety blanket as the dark glasses that Jared insisted upon wearing, supposedly for the protection of his injured eye, even after the doctors had told him that after the first few weeks he wouldn’t need them any longer. If Jared were truthful with himself, if he were honest with Jensen and Danneel, he’d admit that it had nothing to do with his physical health, he wanted the glasses to hide as much of the hideous scarring on the side of his face and around his damaged eye as possible; and the chair, it was the one place that Jared could retreat into, where it felt as though he could hide himself away from the world. He was just thankful that neither Jensen nor Danneel pushed him to get rid of either one. 

It was while Danneel was washing the dishes that Jensen retrieved the medical supplies from the hall closet and then led Jared into his bedroom to the left of the stairs. 

“C’mon, let’s get you up here in the bed so I can change your bandages,” Jensen murmured. 

Having stopped next to the large king sized bed, he placed the roll of paper tape and the packets of bandages down on the bedside table and then looked back at Jared. 

Jared paused his chair near the bed and lifted his gaze to Jensen’s face as he shook his head, “Nah, it’s okay; Danneel’ll do it for me later.” 

Jensen’s brows knitted, “What’s the matter, you don’t want my help?”

Jared heaved a heavy sigh, “No, it’s not that, it’s just…” he sighed again and shook his head. 

_It’s that I don’t want you to see the scars on my face, let alone anywhere else,_ he thought disgustedly. 

“Nothing,” he conceded, “Never mind,” he murmured and reached down to put the brakes on his chair. 

Jensen’s brow remained creased with concern though he remained silent on the matter not wanting to upset Jared anymore than he already seemed to be tonight.

“Nah, I got it,” Jared murmured with a shake of his head when Jensen reached for him. 

Jensen quirked a very Dean-esque brow as he pulled his arms back and straightened from the way he’d leaned toward Jared in an attempt to help him stand, the way he had done every day before he’d left for Vancouver a little over two weeks ago. He quickly moved to toss back the comforter and top sheet so that Jared wouldn’t have to worry about pulling it back after he got himself situated.

His eyes widened slightly with surprise and adoration as he watched Jared transfer himself from the chair to the bed without any assistance at all. 

“Wow, look at you,” Jensen remarked proudly. 

Jared’s eyes lifted to Jensen as he struggled to lay himself back carefully against the pillows and gave a slight shrug of one shoulder. 

“Yeah, when all you’ve got a small woman to help you get around, one that if you fell on her you’d likely crush her, you learn real fast to do things for yourself,” he commented, the corners of his lips quirking upward just slightly in a wry smile. 

He lowered his attention back to what he was doing, moving gingerly across the mattress so that he didn’t cause himself any undo pain. He released a heavy breath as he finally got himself settled into the bed, laying back against the soft plush pillows that Danneel had stacked up for him. His forehead creased and his brows lifted as his gaze once more rose to Jensen with a nod. 

“Okay,” he murmured. 

Jensen returned Jared’s nod and turned more to face him, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. 

“I missed you,” he murmured gently as he reached out a hand and cupped the unscarred side of Jared’s face. 

Jared’s eyes slipped closed as he leaned his face into Jensen’s touch. His tongue darted out, licking across his lips as he nodded. 

“Missed you too,” he sighed softly as he reopened his eyes. 

Jensen’s lips quirked softly at the corners in a loving smile, his eyes searching Jared’s and despite the length of time that had passed, anger and a surge of helplessness seemed to shoot through him as he took in the severity of scarring on the one side of Jared’s face and around his eye. He forced himself to look away, lowering his eyes and staring unseeingly at the bed until he had his emotions in check. 

“That bad, huh?” Jared inquired softly, a distinct sadness in his voice. 

Jensen lifted his gaze once more to Jared, his brow creasing with confusion, “Hm?” he inquired. 

“The scars,” Jared clarified, “They’re still so bad that you have to look away.” 

Jensen’s brow furrowed as he adamantly shook his head in denial, “No, Jare, no,” he whispered earnestly. 

His hand at the side of Jared’s face slipping back slightly, enabling his fingers to thread themselves into the thick soft strands of his lover’s moppish hair, hand cupping Jared’s cheek more firmly. 

“It was never _that bad_ ,” he corrected. “You’re still just as beautiful as always.”

He sighed heavily and allowed his gaze to leave Jared’s eyes and roam over the scars marring the side of his face before his eyes met Jared’s once more. 

“I just… I wish I could have been there,” Jensen began softly. 

Shaking his head slightly, Jared interrupted that line of thought, “No,” he admonished, “You don’t. It was bad enough that he…” he paused and swallowed hard, unshed tears causing his hazel eyes to glisten in the low lamp light. 

“That he murdered Gen,” he continued, “…What he did to me,” he whispered with another shake of his head, “If he’d touched you… I don’t know what I would have done.”

Jensen gave a soft harsh chuckle, “You’d of at least had company,” he offered, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. 

Jared didn’t smile as he gazed up into Jensen’s features and shook his head, “I’m serious, Jen,” he murmured. 

Jensen sighed heavily and nodded, his smile falling away as he lowered his gaze. He drew in a breath before lifting his eyes back to Jared’s features and leaned down over him, pressing a slow soft kiss to Jared’s lips. 

“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled his head back marginally, warm breath fanning across Jared’s skin, his lips. 

Jared’s eyes slowly opened from how they had closed when Jensen leaned in. His heart somersaulted at Jensen’s declaration of love and the corners of his lips quirked upward. 

“I love you too, Smeckles,” he breathed softly, unshed tears once again causing his eyes to shine in the lamp light. 

He shook his head, “S’why I wouldn’t have wanted you there, why it’s not funny, not even in joking. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he confessed softly. 

Jensen’s lips were curved into a loving smile as he pulled his head the remainder of the way back, gazing adoringly down at the man he had fallen head over heels for nearly seven years ago. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and lifted a hand to Jared’s foppishly long bangs, smoothing them back with from his eyes with his index and middle fingers. 

“Let’s get your bandages changed,” he suggested gently as he pulled his hand back and glanced toward the medical supplies laying on the night stand. 

He straightened further and reached for the packets of gauze bandages and pulled them open, laying them out on the bed next to Jared while Jared wiggled on the bed, pulling his tee up to his chin in the back as well as the front. 

Lifting his attention to Jared, Jensen quirked a very Dean-like brow, “Set?” he inquired softly. 

“Help me take this off?” Jared asked, one hand tugging gently at the tee. 

Jensen nodded and reached for the soft cotton of Jared’s tee, helping him pull his arms out of it first and then as he slipped a hand between Jared’s upper back and the bed so that Jared wouldn’t have to use his stomach muscles, pulled the neck of the shirt over his lover’s head. He tossed the tee onto the floor and eased Jared’s upper torso back down against the soft mattress. 

“Better?” he murmured with a lift of his brows in question. 

Nodding, Jared offered Jensen a soft slight smile, “Better,” he echoed. 

Jensen nodded his agreement and acceptance as he turned his attention back to the medical supplies and snatched the roll of paper tape and surgical shears off the night stand, laying them both nearby on the bed. Lifting his attention to Jared’s stomach, he reached for the tape that held the bandage he had on in place and gently began to work it free from his skin. 

“Danneel said that you helped her with dinner,” Jensen remarked conversationally. 

Jared nodded in response; his eyes glued to the movement of Jensen’s hands, watching his lover carefully remove the tape from his skin. 

Sensing the nod more so than actually seeing it, Jensen nodded too. His tongue darted out, licking across his lips as one of the larger pieces of tape came free from Jared’s skin. He glanced up at his lover as he tossed the piece of tape into the trash. 

“You cut up the meat and vegetable,” Jensen continued, brow once again lifting in question though his words seemed more like a simple statement. 

At Jared’s nod, Jensen quirked a brow. “When did you?…How?” 

Shrugging Jared lowered his gaze, “It wasn’t easy,” he admitted softly. “At first, the first time I volunteered to help Danneel in the kitchen; when I picked up the knife all I saw was _him_ , the things he did to me…to Gen,” he whispered hoarsely. 

His gaze lowered to the blue and green plaid bedspread, “I was terrified, but I kept telling myself that he was dead, that Agent Hotchner killed him,” Jared continued with a shake of his head. 

He gave a harsh laugh, “After Danneel noticed the way I was shaking she took the knife from me,” he murmured. “But I kept trying, every night while you were gone I would offer to cut up something for dinner,” he explained, shrugging a shoulder before he lifted his gaze to Jensen’s. “I wanted to be able to surprise you. I wanted you to see that I wasn’t a weakling.” 

Jensen scoffed and shook his head in denial but Jared went on despite the fact. 

“I wanted to be the person you fell in love with all those years ago,” he confided then snorted softly as he shook his head yet again and lowered his gaze back to the blanket, “He definitely wasn’t afraid of something as stupid as a knife.” 

“Hey,” Jensen admonished with a pointed lift of his brows. “Don’t talk like that,” he chastised with a shake of his head. “You’ve been through hell and back,” he shrugged a shoulder and lifted his brows thoughtfully once more. “Almost literally. And if you ask me, I think you’re doin’ a helluva lot better than most people would be.” 

Slowly, as he gazed intently up at Jensen, Jared’s lips began to curve upward. “You were so channeling Dean right there,” he teased. 

“Oh shuddup,” Jensen grumped good naturedly, brow creased with playful annoyance. 

Jared chuckled, shoulders gently shaking and slightly slanted eyes tightening with his laughter. It was a sight that warmed Jensen’s heart, one that he had missed these last few months, ever since Hotch and his team had saved Jared from the clutches of the demented psychopath who had tried to take his love away from him permanently and Jensen couldn’t help the way he grinned widely and chuckled softly in return. 

“Yeah, well…” he allowed with a slight shrug of one shoulder. “You were kinda channelin’ Sam’s angst a little too.” 

Sam’s lips curved down into a thoughtful frown as he shrugged a shoulder playfully. “It’s ingrained,” he reasoned. “It’s my only defense.” 

Jensen nodded, “Mine too,” he agreed. 

He returned his attention to changing Jared’s bandages, working the last of the tape from the tender skin of Jared’s abdomen. Once the tape was free he peeled back the bandage, revealing a row of black silken stitches holding together a long cut that ran from Jared’s chest downward along his stomach. His brows lifted at the pink tinted skin rather than the angry looking redness that had been there before. All of the horrible bruising seemed to have pretty well healed up as well. 

“Looks good,” he commented with a glance up at Jared’s face. 

Jared laid watching Jensen work the tape and then the bandages off, his lips pulling into a slight frown as his brows lifted when he shrugged a shoulder, his gaze darting up to meet Jensen’s as he nodded. 

“I get the stitches out tomorrow,” he murmured. 

Jensen’s eyes widened slightly as his gaze darted between Jared’s face and the incision lining his chest and belly. “You do?” he inquired, “You want me to go with you?” 

Jared shook his head as he gave a shrug, “Danneel was gonna take me,” he replied softly. “You don’t have to,” he murmured as his gaze lowered back his own abdomen. 

Jensen’s brow quirked and his brow furrowed, the look on his face a very Dean-esque one, usually one seen then the elder Hunter was either perturbed at something his little brother did or frustrated with his quirky angel. 

“You don’t want me to go?” he pressed. 

Jared eyes snapped back up to Jensen’s, his own brow creasing as he shook his head, “I didn’t say that. I just…” he shrugged, “I dunno, I didn’t want to bother you…” 

Scoffing, Jensen lowered his attention back to what he was in the process of trying to do, “That’s bullshit, I’m goin’,” he informed his lover. 

“Okay,” Jared agreed, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

It was another fifteen minutes before Jensen had Jared’s bandages replaced with fresh ones, mostly because the two of them bickered over the way Jensen was doing it, the way he laid the new gauze and the fact that tape was not supposed to replace skin on Jared’s stomach; the two of them sounding so much like Sam and Dean that by the end they were both laughing, each at the other. 

Standing, Jensen shrugged out of his button up shirt, one he had snatched off the clothes rack belonging to one Dean Winchester. 

“Think they’ll ever say something about us doing that?” Jared mused. 

“What?” Jensen inquired as he tossed the shirt into a nearby chair. “Stealing from fictional characters?” 

Jared nodded with a chuckle, “Yeah.”

Jensen shrugged, “Who’s gonna complain? I’m pretty sure I can kick Dean’s ass if he says anything.” 

Jared’s brows rose, “I dunno, he’s kinda tough,” he teased. 

With a harrumph, Jensen reached for the fastenings of his jeans as he toed off his boots, “I’ve got it on good authority that he’s all talk.” 

“Mmmm,” Jared hummed, a smile curving his lips as he watched Jensen slip his jeans down his hips and legs before kicking them aside and reaching for the blanket and sheet as he stepped up to the bed and climbed in next to Jared. 

“Not gonna spend your first night back with Danneel?” Jared inquired.

“Nah, I got this really hot guy waitin’ for me downstairs,” Jensen responded huskily as he rolled onto his side, facing his lover. 

“S’at so?” Jared murmured softly as his gaze met Jensen’s. 

“Mmhm,” Jensen hummed and reached up with one hand, tucking a lock of Jared’s long bangs back with his index finger before wrapping his arm around Jared’s waist. “Besides, Danneel has plenty of toys to keep her content for now.”

Chuckling Jared shook his head, “Thanks, I needed that image ingrained in my head.” 

“It’s kinda hot, huh?” Jensen mused with a soft chuckle. 

Rolling his eyes, Jared couldn’t help but nod, “Kinda sad, but yeah,” he agreed, “It is.” 

Lifting his head from the pillows, Jensen braced his weight on one forearm and leaned over Jared, slanting his mouth over his lover’s, tongue teasing its way into his mouth. He teased at the roof of Jared’s mouth before sliding his tongue along side his lover’s, tangling with Jared’s own tongue languidly. A low moan broke form Jensen’s throat as he moved the hand of his free arm slowly down Jared’s stomach, being careful not to put any weight on it as it smoothed over the clean white dressing and down, cupping Jared’s cock through his shorts. At the touch, Jared automatically flinched, one hand snapping to Jensen’s, pulling it away. The action caused Jensen to break the kiss, pulling his head back to look down into Jared’s eyes, his brow creased in concerned confusion. 

Jared shook his head, a saddened apology within his the depths of his eyes, “I can’t,” he murmured before biting at his bottom lip nervously. “I just… It makes me think of him and I just…” 

Jensen’s lips pulled into a thick thin line as he nodded, “It’s okay,” he assured soothingly. “We can just…” 

“Hold me?” Jared suggested. 

With a nod, Jensen lowered himself back down against the pillows, “Yeah,” he agreed, wrapping his arm tightly around Jared, pulling him up against his body. 

Jared nodded dejectedly, hating that he couldn’t even do that, be with Jensen the way they had been for years, nearly from the first episode of the show. He squeezed his eyes closed against the sting of unshed tears and turned his head away from Jensen. 

“Dean’s got a new love interest,” Jensen muttered softly from where he had his face pressed against the side of Jared‘s neck, breathing in his scent. 

Jared’s eyes shot open, “Oh?” he murmured tentatively. 

Jensen’s head nudged against Jared as he nodded, “Hot too…” he mumbled. 

Jared swallowed hard, despite the fact that it probably should be Danneel that was acting this way, jealous of some _Mary Sue_ kissing and lovin’ up on her man. “What’s her name?”

Jensen shook his head, his eyes still closed as he nuzzled Jared‘s neck. “S’not a her, it’s a him,” he corrected gently. 

Jared turned his head back toward Jensen, lips parted in shock, the action forcing Jensen to move his head, lifting it as he gazed down into Jared’s features. 

“Him?” Jared echoed, taken aback by the idea that the writers would actually go _there_. 

Jensen nodded, “Fine an’ sleek…” he drawled as he shook his head. 

Jared’s brow creased, “Sleek?” he echoed again in confusion. 

Jensen’s gaze searched Jared’s and slowly his lips curved into a teasing smile, “They actually put Dean on a motorcycle,” he explained with a shrug, “’Course the Impala’s gonna be jealous as hell, but since she’s in hiding due to Dean still being on the run and all… I gotta have something’ to get around on while Dean, Bobby and Cas are out lookin’ for Sam…”

Jared’s brow creased in confusion, “Looking for Sam?”

“Yeah it was Sera’s dumb idea, I tried to talk the writers out of it, but…” he heaved a heavy sigh, “They wrote it into the script that Sam was kidnapped.” 

Jared scooted farther away so that he could see Jensen’s face better, “They what?” he inquired incredulously. 

Nodding, Jensen reached for Jared, pulling him back up against him, “Mmhm, so there I am riding a motorcycle, with Cas riding on that thing behind me…” 

Jared couldn’t help the snicker that escaped him and had him relaxing back against the pillows, “How’d that go?”

“Better once I got the damn angel to pick up his feet,” Jensen replied blandly. 

Jared’s head pressed back against the pillows as he cracked up laughing, the image of Misha dragging his feet across the asphalt while Dean drove them around on a motorcycle suddenly the funniest thing on the planet. 

“Oh yeah, the laughs just keep on comin’,” Jensen grumbled. 

Jensen’s disgruntled tone caused Jared to roll toward him and wrap him up in his arms, “Aww, poor _Dean_ ,” he cooed between snickers. 

“I’m actually kinda jealous of the beat up old Plymouth Duster Bobby’s drivin’ around in,” Jensen mumbled broodingly.

He sighed heavily and rolled in the opposite direction, as far as the man’s embrace would allow, reaching out with one hand for the lamp, turning it off before rolling back and wrapping his arms around Jared in return. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he muttered as he snuggled up against Jared, tucking his face back in against the long column of his throat. “Bitch,” he muttered, warm breath fanning against the tender skin.

“Jerk,” Jared responded automatically, the corners of his eyes still pulled into slanted slits from the wide grin that curled his lips as he continued to snicker softly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared has been out of the hospital for six weeks and life at Jensen and Danneel’s place is pretty good. Supernatural has gone on without him, as per his request, but Jared still receives fan mail nearly every day. Danneel continues to spoil the hell out of him and what she doesn’t do, Jensen rushes in, when he isn’t on set, and takes care of. Together they’ve managed to give Jared a place where he can feel safe and loved and cared for while he continues to heal and grow stronger both physically as well as emotionally. All things considered, things seems to be going pretty well for Jared Padalecki. That is until a death threat inscribed into the flesh of a murder victim directs the police right back to Jared’s doorstep. It’s then that Agent Hotchner and his team are called back to the City of Angels, where once again they must hunt down a mad man before it’s too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Criminal Minds crossover with the “Supernatural brat pack”. It is a sequel to the fiction entitled **Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder**. A special thanks goes out once again to Jeff Davis for the creation of Criminal Minds, the set up and some of the words used within this fiction. A special thanks also goes out The Mark Gordon Company and CBS Television/ABC Studios. 
> 
> **Please note:** The author has taken liberties with some of the “facts” herein.

_"The farther backward you can look, the farther forward you will see."_ ~ Winston Churchill

_Jared’s head jerked to the side as he gasped in a startled breath, heart pounding in his chest as his gaze took in his surroundings. **‘No! No, it can’t be!’** his mind screamed as he recognized the cellar in which he had been held captive. He tugged at the leather straps that held him immobile as he lifted his head, some niggling voice in the back of his mind noting the difference in his ability to do that simple movement unlike before, but his traumatized brain was too paralyzed with fear to absorb that miniscule fact. _

_**‘Jensen!’** his mind screamed, the realization that he had just been in bed with his lover a moment before slamming into him and causing his heart to clench painfully. His head pivoted, eyes tightened into slits as he tried to make out shapes within the shadows of the dim lighting. Frantically, he searched for what had become of Jensen._

_“He’s mine now,” a hoarse voice that Jared knew all too well intoned from a darkened corner of the room._

_“No,” he breathed fearfully. “Let him go!”_

_The evil laugh that followed sent a chill down Jared’s spine. It was only as he shifted upon the cold metal slab that he realized he was once again back in just his running pants, the silken feel of them chafing against his goosebump pricked skin. The cold from the metal table bit into his back, revealing with utter clarity that he was once more bare chested, and the sting of cold against the arch his feet told him that he was again barefoot._

_His tongue darted out, licking nervously across his lips and he squeezed his eyes tightly closed, struggling against the reality that he found himself in._

_“No, no, Agent Hotchner killed him,” he argued silently with himself. “It’s not real,” he persisted, “It can’t be real.”_

_“Oh I’m **very** real,” the cold hate filled voice, much closer than it had been before, sneered despite the fact that Jared had not spoken a single word. _

_His eyes popped open and widened and Jared gazed up at the assailant as he loomed over him. He shook his head vigorously and shrank back as much as possible against the table, the gleam of the knife that the bastard held caught his eye and had his gaze, straying away from the maniac and over to it, his muscles locking, frozen with fear. The psychopath’s maniacal laughter echoed around him but he couldn’t seem to find the strength to pull his gaze from the blade of the knife as it hovered over him. His eye throbbed with remembered pain as he stared at it with his one good eye, the other blissfully ignorant in its blindness of the impending danger that he was thrust back into._

_A sharp gasp broke from his throat and he managed only then to tear his gaze from the glint of the blade, the moment that he felt the rough touch of the man’s calloused fingertips against his hip. His mind screamed out, knowing what came next, knowing that this time there would be no Calvary to rush in and save him as the sociopath tugged at the waistband of his running pants; the ones that Genevieve has bought him for his birthday that year. For some strange reason, despite that fact that he knew what was about to follow, that he was about to be brutally raped, the memory of his last birthday and Genevieve’s gifts to him, the image of her smile and the sound of her laughter blindsided him and had his eyes stinging with unshed tears._

_**‘Gen, I’m so sorry…’** _

_His eyes squeezed closed and a painful groan tore from his throat as he felt the man’s hand wrapped cruelly around his exposed cock. He tried not to think about what was happening, yet despite the fact that he had closed his eyes, it was as if he were watching everything that was happening anyway, though from a detached body floating somewhere above him._

_**‘Please, oh God, please no…’** _

Jensen groaned and his brow creased with confusion as he slept, his mind picking up on the softly mumbled words Jared spoke though his sleep addled mind could make no real sense of them. He forced himself to lift his head, despite the desire to roll over and return to sleep. Prying his eyes open in the darkness of Jared’s bedroom, he turned his attention to his lover, gazing down at him through eyes that were only marginally cracked open. 

“Jared, what’s a matter?” he questioned groggily. 

Jared thrashed a little, rolling onto his side. His legs jerked upward, thighs against his abdomen as his arms flailed blinding, fighting off an attacker that wasn’t there. 

“Nnnnoooo!” he cried out, his brow knitting with pain and fear. 

Suddenly Jensen was wide awake, his eyes popping open wide. He scooted closer to Jared and reached for him, attempting to catch and still his flailing arms. 

“Jare, Jare, it’s okay,” he soothed as he caught Jared’s wrists in his hands and leaned down over his lover, “It’s okay. It’s me, baby, it’s me,” he comforted softly, his mouth near Jared’s ear.

Jensen’s words had no effect, if anything they only served to make matters worse as Jared’s lips curved down into a broken hearted frown and a sob broke from his throat. He was silent a moment after that as he gulped in air only to grit his teeth and begin thrashing anew. Jared’s back suddenly arched drastically, to the point that Jensen was worried he might pull his stitches and rip open his incision, and then his back smacked down against the mattress as his head jerked to one side. 

“Get away, get off me!” Jared screamed. 

Outside Jared’s room, the sound of feet thundering down the stairs in a rush seemed to echo in the stillness of the house and was then accompanied by the light in the hallway clicking on just before Danneel rushed into the room.

“Jared!” she cried as she rushed to his side and fell to her knees. 

“Jen, don’t, leave him alone,” she commanded as she reached a hand toward Jared and methodically smoothed his hair back while she shushed his fears. 

Blinking with groggy confusion, Jensen sat up in the bed, his gaze darting from Jared to Danneel and back, taking note of the way Jared seemed to be slowly calming with each pass of her hand over his hair. 

“He do this often?” he inquired gently with a lift of his brows. 

“Just every night since you and Mish went back to Vancouver,” Danneel replied softly. 

“Danni?” Jared murmured sleepily. 

At the sound of his voice, Jensen lowered his gaze to Jared and tried to ignore the way his lover’s bottom lip trembled as tears slipped from under his dark lashes and slid down his cheeks, disappearing into his hairline. 

“Yeah, Jay it’s me; it’s Danni, honey,” Danneel whispered soothingly as she tilted her head, leaning in toward him slightly while continuing to stroke her hand through Jared’s hair. 

Jared’s eyes cracked open, his gaze locking on Danneel. One arm lifted and wrapped around her, pulling her in. His eyes squeezed closed while he held her as if to wish the horrible memories, which the dream had stirred up, away. He sniffled softly and he released his hold around her, his arm slipping away from around her shoulders. A soft moan broke from his throat and his eyes blinked groggily open, head turning toward Danneel as she pulled back from the impromptu hug he’d given her. 

He offered her a soft forced smile before lowering his gaze sheepishly as he mumbled, “Sorry.” 

Danneel shook her head, “Nothin’ to be sorry for,” she insisted gently. 

Her lips curved into a gentle smile of encouragement as she slowly shook her head, her gaze locked on Jared’s. She shifted her hand that had been smoothing Jared’s bangs, pulling it down and gently, playfully pinched his cheek with it. “’Course, ya might’a clocked Jensen,” she allowed teasingly with a softly giggle and a nod toward the man in question, her lips curved into a full blown smile.

Jared’s brow creased with confusion and his gaze darted in the direction that Danneel had indicated, his eyes widened and a gasped breath left him when upon seeing Jensen sitting there in the bed next to him, his sleep addled brain having not remembered that his lover was even there. 

“Jen?” he breathed softly. 

“Yeah, Jare, s’me,” Jensen murmured as he turned toward him, easing himself down in the bed on his side, facing his lover. 

He reached one hand toward Jared, tenderly cupping the side of his face. He used the pad of his thumb to smooth the creases from his brow before shifting his hand slightly and brushing his fingers back through his lover’s hair the way he’d seen Danneel do before. 

Danneel’s smile remained though it softened with love for each of them, as her gaze darted between the two men, “Well, if you guys don’t need me anymore, I’d like to get back to sleep, I was right in the middle of a dream involving me, Brad Pitt and a nice _steamy_ hot tub,” she murmured, her smile turning saucy as she lifted her brows meaningfully. 

Jensen scoffed at her, “Yeah, call me when Angelina shows up, huh?” he responded as he jutted his chin in her direction. 

Pulling put to her full height from her knelt position, Danneel scoffed and gave a dismissive wave of her hand and headed to and out the door, pulling it closed behind her with a playful roll of her eyes. 

Jensen watched her go, an amused smile splitting his face and causing the skin at the corners of his eyes to crinkle. He turned his attention back to Jared once the door had been pulled closed and jerked his head to the side toward the now closed door, “I don’t think she plans on lettin’ me know,” he deduced with mirthful disgust. 

Jared’s gaze darted back to Jensen as he saw his lover’s attention return to him from the corner of his eye while he too had been watching Danneel leave his room. He shook his head as he pressed his lips together before they quirked upward slightly at the corners in amusement. 

“I don’t think she does either,” he admitted. 

Jensen shook his head to the negative in mock aggravation and he chuckled softly in agreement with Jared. His laughter slowly died away as he gazed down at his lover, though his smile remained until the moment that he dipped his head, eyes fluttering closed, and pressed a tender kiss to Jared’s lips. 

His eyes slipped open as he pulled his head back and he searched Jared‘s eyes, brow knitting softly with concern, “You okay?” he inquired softly.

Jared nodded, unable to get his tongue to form the words, unable to lie like that to Jensen, especially while looking into his beloved’s concerned verdant eyes. He knew, if he was honest with himself, he knew deep down that it wasn’t really the truth, that although he might be doing better in some areas, like being able to handle a knife without it bothering him, at least not too much, his mind was still locked back in that cellar with his attacker. Despite trying with all his might to flush those memories from his mind, he found himself thinking about what that madman did to him nearly every waking moment; it seemed too that his unconscious mind couldn’t let go of the horrors he had suffered any better than his waking mind could. 

Jensen echoed Jared’s nod with one of his own before settling down next to him. He wrapped an arm around his lover’s middle as he snuggled up to him and closed his eyes, pressing his face against the long column of his lover‘s throat, drinking in his comforting scent. 

“I love you, Jare,” he murmured gently, warm breath fanning against the tender flesh of Jared‘s neck. 

Jared swallowed past the lump in his throat, guilt over lying to Jensen and gratitude that he still, even with being as disfigured as he was now, love him. He blinked back the sting of tears and squeezed his eyes closed momentarily before blinking them open as he nodded, forcing a soft slight smile to his lips as he lay there in the in the semidarkness of the room, staring up at the white ceiling. 

“I love you too, Jen,” he rasped hoarsely. “So much…”

  
  


The sun was shining brightly through the windows of the Ackles’ kitchen, gleaming off the high polished wood floors and crystal goblets that were filled with orange juice and sitting in front of each of them at the smallish breakfast nook as Jensen, Danneel and Jared hurried wolfed down a quick breakfast while sorting through the pile of mail that Jensen had gathered from the mailbox outside that morning while Jared had been getting dressed, a feat that he stubbornly insisted upon doing himself, and Danneel had been tossing together something for them all to eat. 

“Okay,” Jensen began as he leafed through the stack of envelopes sitting on the table beside him while chewing on the on the piece of bacon he had just finished shoving into his mouth. “We’ve got, bill, bill, bill,” he muttered, setting each of those aside, “Letter for Danni from Mom and Dad,” he continued, passing the envelope over to his wife. “Fan mail for me, me, you,” he recited as he tossed the envelopes for him down in the same pile as the bills, then chucked the ones for Jared across the table at him, grinning as it thumped against Jared’s chest before falling into his lap. 

He lowered his amused attention back to the pile of mail, “You,” he sighed, flinging the envelope, “you, you, you,” he continued, sending each card zinging across the table and into Jared’s lap. 

His brow creased with irritation as he lifted his head, “Why the hell are you getting all this fan mail?” he grumped, rousing a genuine grin from Jared. 

Lowering his attention back to the pile of envelopes, he began rummaging through them again. “Bill, bill… Oh,” he exclaimed with a wide grin as he lifted his gaze to Jared and murmured sheepishly, “Here’s more for me,” 

“Me, me, me, me…” he intoned as he laid each envelope onto the stack next to him. 

His eyes widened with teasing excitement as he turned his attention to Danneel, “Oh wow, look, honey here’s one for you,” he said as he handed her the decorative pink envelope. 

Danneel frowned as she accepted the letter, “It’s probably very cleverly disguised hate mail,” she grumbled disgustedly as she began opening it. 

“Awww,” both Jensen and Jared responded in unison, wide amused grins on their faces. 

Danneel scoffed at the two of them and rolled her eyes, “You think it’s so easy being married to you guys, you need to walk a day in _my_ shoes. M’ surprised I don’t get spit at more often than I do.” 

“Hey! That was my uncle and he can’t help that he spits when he talks,” barked Jensen in mock defense, a teasing smile immediately curving his lips. 

His gaze swung to Jared as the two of them chuckled with merriment at Danneel’s pitiful plight. 

Danneel’s lips curved down in to an adorable little girl pout as she pulled the white and pastel hued card from inside the envelope, the sight of which had Jensen lowering a hand to her thigh as he leaned toward her and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Poor baby,” he cooed teasingly. 

Danneel jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow which effectively cut off any and all of his chuckling at her expense along with eliciting a rather loud and whiny “Ow!” from him as he shot her a rather disgruntled frown while rubbing the abused area of his chest with the hand that had been on her thigh. 

Jared gave a heartfelt boisterous laugh to all of this as his eyes darted between the two of them, the fact of which despite the likelihood that he was going to be sporting a light bruise from this little incident, had Jensen, as well as Danneel, smiling as they lifted their eyes to him, grateful to be hearing the rich sound of his laughter again. 

Shaking her head at the two of them, incorrigible clowns that they are, Danneel lowered her gaze to the feminine looking card with butterflies and ribbons decorating the cover. Her lips curved upward at the corners into a soft smile as her eyes darted across the page, reading the words contained within. 

“Awww,” she murmured before lifting her attention to Jensen and meeting his curious gaze. “One of your fans wrote me a sweet little letter,” she said as she allowed him to take the card. 

“Of course they did,” Jensen responded, flashing a smirk Jared’s way before lowering his attention to the card, “It’s ’cause all my fans are _awesome_.” 

Danneel scoffed, “Uh-huh, the fan who convinced half the population that she’d had your baby was just _awesome_ ,” she quipped sarcastically with a droll roll of her eyes. 

Jared snickered as his gaze once again darted between the two, “This is better than watchin’ Laurel and Hardy,” he mused with a soft chuckle. 

“Great,” Danneel drawled sardonically with another eye roll as she pulled to her feet while pushing her chair back. 

“I need to run,” she said as she grabbed her plate and turned, carrying it over to the sink. 

“Where are you goin’?” Jensen asked, lifting his attention from the card he had skimmed. 

Danneel turned back toward the table, “Elizabeth and I are going shopping,” she replied simply, with a slight shrug of one shoulder. 

“Shopping?” Jensen inquired incredulously. “What do you need to go shopping for?” 

Danneel’s lips quirked upward at the corners as her eyes widened meaningfully as she glanced toward Jared and back, “Girl stuff,” she responded through her teeth as she crossed the distance between herself and Jensen, swatting him playfully on the arm. 

“Besides,” she reasoned with another shrug, “It’ll give you boys some alone time,” she explained with a nod toward Jared as her gaze darted between them. 

Jared’s lips pulled into a wide grin and his gaze darted between Danneel and Jensen, somewhat pleased to hear that he had Jensen to himself for the entire day.

“Oh well in that case,” Jensen responded with a smug smirk, “Shop until you drop,” he concluded with a chuckle. 

“Oh yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she replied, eyes narrowing in mock accusation. 

“Okay, I gotta run,” She announced with a glance at her watch before bending at the waist and pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Jensen’s lips. 

Jensen lifted an arm, wrapping it around her from behind as he leaned back, his face tilted upward, pulling her in for a real lip on lip kiss, though it was still relatively chaste. 

“Alright, be careful,” he murmured gently as he allowed her to pull away. 

“I will,” she assured. 

Heading for the door, she paused next to Jared’s wheelchair and bent again, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“You boys stay outta trouble,” she directed as she straightened and rushed toward the front door. 

“Yeah, uh-uh,” Jensen mumbled. “Hey!” he called out, “Don’t spend all my money!”

Pausing as she pulled open the door, she turned back toward Jensen with a wide smile, “Bye!” was her only response before disappearing out the door. 

Jensen shifted his gaze to Jared as the front door closed with a soft thud, “She’s gonna spend everything I have,” he sighed in resignation. 

Jared nodded, “Yep,” he agreed with a wide grin, a soft chuckle breaking from between his lips.

  
  


It was about twenty minutes later that Jensen was helping Jared transfer out of his wheelchair and into his jeep. 

“Easy, careful,” Jensen muttered as he helped Jared ease back into the, far too upright in his opinion, seat.

“Is that okay? Do you want to put the seat back a little?” he inquired, concern creasing his brow as he looked into Jared’s pained features. 

Shaking his head, his lips pressed tightly together against the pulling pain of his stitches, Jared forced an encouraging smile for Jensen. 

“No, it’s okay, I’m good,” he grunted softly. 

“Uh-huh,” Jensen mumbled, disbelief clear on his face as he searched Jared’s features. 

He sighed heavily in resignation; it was quite obvious that the famous Winchester stubbornness was carrying over into real life. 

“If you say so,” he allowed, his brow still creased with concern as he pulled back from Jared and reached for the side of the door. 

“All in?” he inquired even though Jared _looked_ to not be hanging out of the jeep anywhere.   
Jared nodded as he adjusted the way he was sitting in hopes of elevating some of the pain he was feeling. 

“Yeah,” he breathed with grunt, “I’m good.” 

Jensen nearly rolled his eyes as he gave a nod and shut the door of the jeep. Lifting the wheelchair up into his arms, he carried it around to the back of the jeep and carefully placed it inside the back compartment then hurried around to the driver’s side and pulled open the door, climbing in. 

“Y’all set?” he inquired with a glance at Jared as he inserted the key into the ignition and started the vehicle. 

Jared nodded with a sigh as he found a position that wasn’t too terribly uncomfortable. 

“I should’a had Danneel take this and leave us the SUV,” Jensen commented with another worried glance at Jared before he began backing the jeep out of the drive way. 

“No, it’s okay, I’m good,” Jared insisted. 

Jensen glanced at Jared with concerned disbelief as he shifted the jeep into drive once he’d back out of the drive and onto the street. He didn’t argue the matter however and simply pressed the gas, heading down the street and toward the highway leading to Santa Monica General; where Jared and Albert Tate, which they had later learned was the true identity of the Picasso Mangler. Both had been rushed inside, when the dust had settled, Jared was in Intensive Care and Albert Tate, in the morgue. It had been an unspoken rule that Jared was never told that the body of his assignment was only one floor away. The hospital’s attending Psycho therapist had felt that it was in Jared’s best interest that he not know that. Of course Jensen, Danneel and Misha had been unimpressed with the woman’s rather obvious diagnosis of the situation. 

The drive to the hospital took about two hours what with the downtown traffic and the various idiots on the road that Jensen was forced to maneuver around. All in all however, it wasn’t too horrible of a trip. He pulled the jeep up to the curb for valet parking, just outside the main hospital entrance. Putting the vehicle into park, he reached for the door handle and popped open the door without turning the car off and slid from behind the wheel. Standing to his feet outside of the jeep, Jensen reached back and pulled his wallet from his back pocket, pulling out some bills before refolding it and shoving it back into his pocket. 

“Gimme a second and I’ll come around and get ya,” he instructed as he looked back in at Jared. 

Having been watching Jensen since he had slipped from behind the wheel, Jared nodded in response. 

“Okay,” he agreed softly. 

With a nod of his own, Jensen shut the door of the jeep and started around to the back only to be cut off halfway there by the valet. 

“Hello, sir, do you want to valet?” he inquired.

Jensen nodded, “Please,” he agreed and handed the valet the bills he had pulled from his wallet, the sum slightly more than the cost to be valet parked. 

“Keep it,” Jensen murmured when the kid looked up at him curiously. 

Nodding, the kid started around the jeep past Jensen, heading for the driver‘s side door. 

Turning toward the valet, Jensen called out to him, “Uh, hey, Gimme a minute to get the chair outta the back and help my friend out,” 

“Oh sure, yes, sir, no problem,” the kid responded with a vigorous nod. 

Jensen turned back to the rear of the jeep and reached in, grasping Jared’s chair and lifted it out of the back, setting it carefully onto the ground. Releasing the brakes, he wheeled it around to Jared’s side of the car, just as Jared pushed open his door. 

Jensen smiled at Jared, “Your chariot,” he announced teasingly. 

Behind his dark sunglasses, Jared rolled his eyes as he gave a soft huff, “Great,” he scoffed softly. 

After setting the breaks, Jensen stepped around the chair and reached for Jared as he climbed from the jeep and gingerly put his feet against the ground. He helped Jared to turn, guiding him backward to the chair until his lover‘s calves knocked gently against the leg supports, then helped him slowly lower into it. 

Jared winced a couple of times as he turned and lowered carefully into the wheelchair, sighing heavily with relief once he was settled. 

“You okay?” Jensen inquired softly, bent at the waist over Jared.

Nodding, Jared reached up and patted Jensen’s shoulder, “M’good, thanks,” he murmured. “S’a lot easier to do this with you then it is Danneel,” he commented with a weak smile. 

Jensen grinned and gave a soft chuckle, “Yeah, but I bet her boobs in your face were a lot more enjoyable than mine,” he responded good-naturedly. 

Jared chuckled and shook his head at Jensen’s teasing. “I dunno, aren’t you supposed to be the one with perky nipples?”

Jensen shook his head, “Nah, that’s Dean, I just got regular old nipples,” he countered with a soft chuckle before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to Jared’s lips. 

“Let’s go,” he murmured. 

Stepping around back of Jared’s chair, Jensen gripped the handles and began pushing Jared toward the front doors of the hospital while the jeep pulled away behind them. Before Jared had been released from the hospital the doctor had told them that when it was time for Jared’s stitches to be removed, that he could come to his office there in the hospital on the second floor and he would do both, Jared’s post-op appointment and remove the stitches. He’d given Jared the date that it would be then, but having been away at work on the set, Jensen had forgotten when exactly it was and was now thankful that their break had coincided with the date of Jared’s return visit. 

The glass doors leading into the hospital slid open and Jensen pushed Jared forward, continuing into the sterile smelling, immaculately clean hospital’s first floor. They headed for the elevators, joining the small group of other patients and employees waiting for the elevator to arrive; amongst those waiting was a little blond haired girl, her hair falling in long cascading waves down her back, likely no more than four or five, that smiled at Jared as she shyly hid behind her mother’s legs, peering out around one thigh at him. 

Jensen noticed her first as Jared tended to try not to look at anyone when he was out anymore; too embarrassed himself by the scars that now marred his features. He released one of the wheelchair handles and laid his hand gently on Jared’s shoulder as he leaned over his lover from behind. 

“Still gettin’ fans everywhere we go,” he mused softly, nodding toward his rapt audience when Jared lifted his face upward, looking back at Jensen. 

A slightly wistful smile curved Jared’s lips as he lowered his gaze to the child and returned her shy smile. 

“Hey there,” Jensen bravely called out to her, “What’s your name?”

“Katrina,” she murmured shyly before burying her face against her mother’s thigh. 

The mother laughed softly and reached down, hugging her daughter to her, “She’s shy,” the woman explained. 

Jensen nodded to the woman and lowered his gaze back to Katrina as he nodded sagely, “Yeah, he’s shy too,” he remarked with a nod toward Jared. 

Jared’s lips curved upward, smiling wide at Jensen’s teasing, making dimples show in his cheeks. 

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open before them. One by one, those who had been waiting filed inside with Jensen and Jared bringing up the rear after Jensen had wheeled Jared around backwards and pulled the chair in after him so that Jared faced the doors. 

They were the first ones out when the elevator reached the second floor, followed by a pink scrub dressed brunette nurse and an elderly white haired woman wearing a blue and green flower print blouse, the same color blue slacks that were in the blouse and a matching long sleeve cover up. Katrina and her mom remained inside. 

Wheeling Jared down the long hall they paused once they reached the area where a sign hung directing people as to the location of different doctor’s offices on that wing. Jensen scanned the list of names until he came to Dr. Moy’s name and noted the directions, end of the hall, last door, room 282. He continued to the indicated door and paused, hitting the wheelchair automatic door opener. He waited until the two double doors swung wide then wheeled Jared up to the desk. 

“Can I help you?” the young red-headed woman behind the desk inquired. 

“Uh, Jared Padalecki has an eleven O’clock post-op appointment with Dr. Moy,” Jensen responded. 

The receptionist nodded and motioned toward the clipboard lying on top of the desk counter, “Just sign in and we’ll call you back shortly,” she instructed with a polite smile. 

Jensen gave a slight nod as he reached for the pen and scrawled Jared name across the next open blank on the page along with his appointment time and arrival time. Placing the pen back on the counter he lowered his hands to the handles of the wheelchair and wheeled Jared over to a lone seat. Putting on the chair’s breaks, Jensen rounded Jared’s chair and heaving a weary sigh, took a seat in the office chair next to him. 

“Tired?” Jared inquired softly. 

Jensen shrugged, “A little,” he confessed. 

“You didn’t have to bring me,” Jared murmured gently as he shook his head. 

Jensen frowned, lips pressing into a disapproving line as his brow creased, “Don’t be ridiculous, I wanted to come,” he retorted. 

“Yeah, but I remember how it was, I’d get in and get in the car and Gen…” he responded then paused, fighting back the onslaught of emotion that always came when he spoke of Genevieve. 

He drew in a deep fortifying breath as he squeezed his eyes closed and released it slowly and blinked his eyes open once more. 

“Gen would barely get the car moving and I’d be out like a light,” he finished softly. 

Jensen overlooked the short lived pull of emotion, knowing that if he asked about it Jared would say the same thing that he had since he’d woken up in his hospital room, that he wasn’t going to stop talking about her just because it hurt, hurt to know that it was his fault that she was gone, his fault that he hadn’t been there. Jensen and Danneel had both tried to talk him out of those beliefs but Jared, much like Sam Winchester, had been stubborn, clinging to those thoughts, those feelings. 

Jensen sighed inwardly; sometimes Jared had way too much character bleed. They were definitely going to have to work on that. 

He shrugged a shoulder instead, “I’m alright,” he responded, offering Jared a small soft smile of encouragement. 

Jared wasn’t sure just how much he believed Jensen, if at all, but he didn’t argue only gave a nod and a small grateful smile of his own. “I love you,” he whispered. 

Jensen’s smile grew wider, “Love you too, Jare,” he murmured with a wink. 

Before either of them could say more, their attention was drawn to the nurse that held open the door leading to the back as she called Jared’s name. 

Jensen flashed her a small smile as he pulled to his feet and walked around Jared’s chair, taking the breaks off as he went. Grasping the handles, he pushed Jared toward the open doors. 

“Hi, Jared, how are you?” she inquired as he and Jensen passed her and she released the door, following them down the hall. 

“Okay, and you?” he answered, looking back at her. 

“Good,” the petite brunette replied with a jovial smile as she carefully made her way in front of them. 

“Jared, hon are you able to stand?” she inquired, standing beside the scales. 

Jared nodded and pressed his hands against the arms of the wheelchair and started to rise. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jensen muttered as he hurriedly put the brakes on and then made his way to Jared’s side, reaching for him, wrapping one arm around Jared. 

“Easy,” the nurse chimed in as she moved to help Jensen take care of helping Jared rise. 

“Okay,” directed Jensen with a nod as he grasped his lover’s sides to help him rise to his feet. 

Jared pulled slowly, achingly to his feet and took the couple steps needed to reach the scales. Reaching for the wall and bracing a hand against it for support he stepped up onto the rubber mat on the scales so that the nurse could get his weight, Jensen’s arms wrapped half way around him, bracing him the entire way. 

The nurse chuckled as she stepped up to the scales, “Uh, Jared, your friend there is gonna have to let go for me to get this,” she said with amusement evident in her voice. 

“Oh,” murmured Jensen as he released his hold around Jared and took a step back, smiling sheepishly, “Sorry.” 

Jared’s grin was wide as he turned his head and looked back over his shoulder at his lover, grateful despite the fact that the nurse had been unable to do her job because of it, for Jensen’s support and rather obvious love and caring.

He returned his attention to the scales, watching as the nurse move the weights sliding them back and forth in order to get an accurate reading. She slid them all back to zero once she’d finished and quickly jotted his weight down on his chart. 

“Okay,” she allowed with a smile, “you can step down now.” 

Jared nodded and reached for the wall to balance himself only to have Jensen swoop in, grabbing him in the same manor as before, one arm wrapped around his back, grasping his side while the other hand held onto the side closest to him, and Jared take the step down and cross the short distance over to the wheelchair. He hurried around Jared and the chair while still holding onto him, aiding him in sitting back down. 

The nurse smiled warmly at the both of them as she waited for Jared to get comfortable in the chair and Jensen to take the brakes off once more. 

“Okay, just follow me,” she instructed, leading them further back into the office. 

“You’ll be here in room three,” she directed, stopping at the other side of the door and turning around to face the two men. 

Jensen wheeled Jared into the room, the nurse following along behind them. She walked over to the wall cubby and, after placing Jared’s chart on the sink counter, withdrew the blood pressure cuff before crossing over to Jared where Jensen had parked his chair, next to one of the chairs within the examination room. The sound of the Velcro ripping open filled the otherwise silence of the room as she opened it. She smiled at Jared as she paused for him to give her his arm before lowering her attention and wrapping the cuff around his bicep. She then reached up and unwrapped her stethoscope from around her neck. She inserted the earpieces into her ears then pressed the cold chest piece against the area on his arm just below the cuff before reaching for the blood pressure pump and pumping the cuff. Watching the gage she released the air from the cuff slowly. After another moment she pulled the cuff free, the sound of Velcro ripping once more filling the room. Pulling the earpieces from her ears and allowing the stethoscope to dangle from her neck she folded the cuff back up and turned, crossing the room to tuck the cuff back into its cubby. She pulled the stethoscope from her neck, wrapping it back around her neck the way she’d had it before and reached for Jared’s chart, scribbling down his results. 

“Okay, Jared, temperature time,” she murmured as she placed his chart back down and grabbed up the ear thermometer along with a sterile cap. 

Walking back over to Jared she smiled once more at him, “This just goes in your ear, hon,” she explained and reached out with one hand to tuck a lock of Jared’s hair back out of her way. 

Inserting the thermometer, she pressed the button on its side and waited all of a minute before it beeped softly, then withdrew, glancing down at the results. 

“Normal, that’s good,” she mumbled half to herself as she turned and crossed back over to his chart, scribbling the results. 

She lifted her head and smiled at the two of them, “Okay, Jared, you’re all set; the doctor will be in with you shortly,” she announced cheerfully with a nod and a wide jack o’ lantern smile, as though the doctor arriving was the most exciting news in the world. 

Jensen returned her nod muttering a soft, “Thank you,” in response. 

She turned then and with Jared’s chart pressed against her chest as though it were some precious find, walked out the door, pulling it closed behind her. 

“Well, she apparently likes her work,” Jensen remarked sarcastically in a very Dean-like manor. 

Jared snickered softly, turning his head toward his lover, “You think?” he responded with a grin curving his lips upward, causing dimples to press into the meat of his cheeks. 

Jensen’s cell phone rang while they were waiting, Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Freebird blasting from the small phone’s speakers. Jared turned his attention to Jensen as he withdrew his phone and glanced at the display. 

He held up a finger to Jared as he pulled to his feet, muttering, “It’s Misha,” before pressing the call button. 

“Hey Mish,” he answered with a wide grin curving his lips. 

“Hey, Jen,” Misha replied joyously. “I tried to call the house but no one answered. You’d said this morning that it was Jared’s appointment day and I was just wondering what the doctor said, how’s he doing?”

“Uh,” Jensen started with a glance at Jared as he pulled to his feet, pacing away from him. 

“Actually we’re at the doctors now,” he responded, “So, I’m not totally sure yet.” 

Jared allowed the magazine in his hands to go unheeded, allowing it to fall to his lap while he intently watched Jensen and listed to the one sided conversation; jealously coiling tightly in his chest. Why was Misha calling again? Didn’t he and Jensen just talk last night? Hell, Jensen was late getting home due to being over at Misha’s. His brow creased and his lips curved downward into a deep frown as he lowered his attention to the magazine in his lap, staring unseeingly at it while continuing to listen in to what Jensen was saying. 

“Oh man, I’m sorry, I’ll let you go,” Misha responded. 

“It’s okay, I know this morning when we talked it was crazy and I wanted to get off the phone before Jared got out of the shower so I didn’t get to tell you what time it was,” Jensen replied.

Jared head snapped up and his eyes widened behind his dark glasses. Misha and Jen had spoken this morning? What the hell? He swallowed hard and tried to fight back the fear that he was slowly losing Jensen to Misha, that soon Danneel would be opening her doors to Misha rather than to him. He pressed his lips into a thin line and lowered his attention once more to the magazine, but this time, instead of seeing nothing, all he could see were images of Jensen and Misha together and how much they always flirted with one another, how fandom seemed to have them almost married off already. 

“Okay, just toss me a text after you get out of there or something and let me know how Jay is,” Misha suggested. 

“Hell, I’ll just call you when we get out, we don’t have anything planned anyway,” Jensen retorted. 

“Oh okay,” Misha agreed. “You sure?”

“Yeah sure, why not, it’s not like Jare’ll mind,” reasoned Jensen, another wide grin curling his lips upward and making the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

“West no, don’t pull the cat’s tail,” Misha’s muffled voice sounded into the phone. 

Jensen’s smile only widened and a soft chuckle broke from his lips at the sounds of Misha correcting West. 

“Hold on, uh, actually if you hear the phone fall don’t hang up, it’s because it fell from me holding it against my shoulder. I have to sign to my kid to stop pulling Mrs. Wiskerson’s tail,” Misha explained. 

“West…” Misha scolded. 

He scoffed softly into the phone, “I’m probably the only parent there is that has to tell their kid not to sign back at them rather than not to talk back,” he grumbled disgustedly. 

Jensen chuckled, “Well, you kind of did that to yourself teaching him to sign,” he reasoned. 

“Yeah, well tell that to the poor cat,” Misha sighed, “And he wonders why she scratches him. I swear, my kid’s gonna wind up lookin’ like he got into a fight with Freddy Krueger and lost.”

Jensen laughed, glancing toward Jared and offering him a small smile when their eyes met. 

“Vic, can you come get West, he’s pullin’ Mrs. Wiskerson’s tail again,” Misha called. 

“West you know better than that,” Victoria’s muffled voice came across the line. 

“Okay, I’m back,” Misha muttered. 

“Okay,” Jensen chuckled. “So, I’ll call you,” he reiterated. 

“Yeah, okay, sounds good,” Misha agreed. “I’ll talk to you then.”

“Right, you can tell me who won, the cat or West,” Jensen responded with amusement. 

“The cat,” Misha grumbled, it’s always the cat.” 

“I’ll talk to ya later, man,” Jensen snickered. 

“Okay, bye,” Misha mumbled before the phone went dead.

Jensen walked back to his seat and sat down with a sigh. He turned his attention to Jared with a wide smile.

“West was pullin’ the cat’s tail,” he explained. 

Jared nodded, pulling his attention away from the magazine he had yet to actually read. 

“Misha called you this morning?” he inquired almost accusatorily. 

Jensen shrugged, “Well, yeah,” he replied. “You were in the shower and he called to see what was up, how you were and I had couldn’t really talk since you were about to get out and Danni was rushin’ around the room like her butt was on fire tryin’ to find something to wear, as if she doesn’t have a closet and a half full of clothes,” he explained, wide grin still in place. 

His smile slowly melted as he searched Jared’s eyes, his brow creasing with concern, “You alright?” he inquired, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jared mumbled, lowering his attention to the magazine in his lap. “I just figured you would have told me.” 

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Jensen sighed, “Jare, I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t important,” he reasoned with a shrug of one shoulder. 

Jared only nodded in response, his attention glued to the magazine as though it were suddenly oh-so interesting. 

It was another tense ten to fifteen minutes of looking through Woman’s Home Journal and Web MD, since Jared had suddenly become _Tim the tool man Taylor_ and only grunted in response to anything that Jensen said, before the door to the examination room where they were seated opened and Dr. Moy; an older Asian man with a high and tight hair cut, silver at his temples only the rest of his hair remaining a thick jet black hue, walked into the room. 

“Hello, Jared,” he greeted warmly with a kind smile as he closed the door behind him and crossed the distance to Jared and Jensen, offering his hand first to Jared to shake and then Jensen. 

Dr. Moy took a step back as he lowered his attention to Jared’s file, rummaging through notes. 

“So it’s been six weeks since your surgery,” Dr. Moy stated as he lifted his attention to Jared first, then Jensen. 

Both men nodded in affirmation to the doctors words as Dr. Moy returned his attention to the chart for a moment before looking up once more with a smile. 

Lifting his gaze again to Jared his brow creased with confused and concerned curiosity, “Jared, why are you wearing your sunglasses inside?” he inquired. 

Jared lowered his gaze almost timidly, his head bowing with the gesture. He glanced over at Jensen before listing his gaze back to the doctor. 

“Um, I don’t really like people to see…” he mumbled softly. 

Dr. Moy took a step closer, “See what, Jared?” he asked gently, glancing over at Jensen curiously before returning his attention to his patient. 

“Um…my scars,” murmured Jared dejectedly lowered his gaze once more. 

Dr. Moy turned his attention to Jensen, “Wasn’t Dr. Archer going to take care of those?” he inquired. 

Jensen nodded, “Yes, sir, but Dr. Grey, Jared’s Ophthalmologist, wanted him to wait though until we see what you said and until she has a chance to see how his vision ends up, after the eye has time to completely heal from the surgery she did on it before moving forward and has the cosmetic stuff done.” 

Dr. Moy nodded and turned his attention back to Jared as he reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder, “Jared, there is nothing wrong with the way you look. And after Dr. Grey gives her okay, then Dr. Archer can proceed. Trust me, you’ll be making woman swoon again in no time,” he assured gently, a warm smile curving his lips. 

“Alright Jared,” he said as he pulled his hand from Jared’s shoulder and backed up to the end of the examination table that lay to the left of Jared and Jensen. “If you’ll just jump up here for me we’ll get those stitches out,” he invited, reaching out and patting the cushioned table with one hand. 

Jared nodded and pressed his hands against the arms of the chair as he started to rise. Jensen jumped up immediately and reached for Jared with the intent to help him however he stopped as Jared paused a moment, reaching up and pulling his dark glasses from his face. He handed them to Jensen to take care of then returned his hands once more to the arms of his chair. Once Jensen had tucked the glasses into the pocket of one of Dean’s over shirts that he was wearing, he reached for Jared, bracing him as he had before with one arm around Jared’s shoulders to aid him in rising out of the chair. 

Dr. Moy watched from where he stood, his brow knitted with concern and a bit of disgruntlement, not liking the fact that Jared _still_ seemed to need assistance getting around. He had expected him to be hopping out of the chair buoyantly by now. 

Jensen helped him turn and slowly sit down on the edge of the table before laying back, his long legs bent at the knees, the heels of his Nike’s digging into the cushions. 

Jensen stepped to the head of the table and took hold of one of Jared’s hands, squeezing it reassuringly despite the way Jared had previously be miffed at him for whatever reason. He offered him a warm smile with Jared glanced up at him. Jensen was glad, even thankful that he actually returned his smile; some of the tension that had coiled itself in Jensen’s shoulders releasing a bit. 

“Give me just a moment,” Dr. Moy murmured as he turned and walked over to the door, pulling it open and poking his head out. 

Jared’s attention lowered to the doctor and he gave a slight curt nod to his words. Jensen’s gaze darted briefly over to Dr. Moy as well at that same moment before lowering once more to Jared.

“Nurse,” he called. “Rebecca, Mr. Padalecki is having sutures removed today, can you get my one of the kits and then give me a hand in here?” he inquired with a nod. “Thank you,” he murmured before closing the door once more. 

“You okay?” Jensen murmured softly. 

Jared nodded in response to Jensen’s concern, though his lips remained pressed into a thin line against the slight pain that stretching completely out caused his incision. 

Turning around, Dr. Moy walked back over to the table and laid a hand on one of Jared’s knees, “I know you’re going to hang off a bit, but can you lower your knees for me?” he requested. 

Once Jared did as the doctor had requested, Dr. Moy reached for the hem of Jared’s polo shirt and pulled it gently up causing Jared to shift slightly on the table in an attempt to aid the doctor in being able to lift it out of his way. 

Once the material was out of the doctor’s way, he moved his hands to Jared’s abdomen, pressing gently against the incision as well as the flesh around it, slowly working his way upward along the row of stitches to Jared’s chest before lifting his eyes to Jared’s face and offering a soft smile. 

“Looks good, Jared, you seem to be healing fine,” he assured with a pleased nod. 

The door to the room opened then and Rebecca, a youngish woman wearing a multicolored patchwork Care Bear smock, her long, board straight, blond hair pulled back in a pony tail, entered the room carrying a sealed Medi Choice suture removal kit. 

Dr. Moy turned toward the sound of someone entering, one hand still lying gently against Jared’s stomach. His brows lifted and a smile graced his lips seeing the nurse with the item he had requested in hand. 

“Ah, perfect,” he muttered softly as he took the kit from Rebecca and placed it down on the examination table next to Jared’s hip. 

Gesturing toward the box of rubber gloves, the doctor muttered softly to Rebecca asking that she hand him a couple. The nurse quickly turned and pulled two gloves from the box, handing them to the doctor with a soft slight smile. After pulling the gloves onto his hands, Dr. Moy pulled back the sealed top of the kit and extracted a pair of small scissors and equally small plastic tweezers. 

“Alright, Jared, “I’m going to start removing the stitches now,” Dr. Moy forewarned. “You might feel a slight pinch here and there, but it shouldn’t be anything too terrible. That the top of the incision and the bottom are usually the worst for pain, even the small amount that is normal, as they are the likely most tender areas,” he offered gently. 

Jared nodded before turning his head to the side, “Okay,” he allowed as his eyes slid softly closed. 

Jensen squeezed Jared’s hand that he held reassuringly, his gaze glued to Jared’s incision, watching as the doctor began cutting away the stitches before plucking the coarse strands free and pulling them from Jared’s skin. Jared was still and silent as the doctor worked, during which Jensen remained standing at the head of the table, holding onto Jared‘s hand; he glanced down at his lover’s face from time to time, checking on him to make sure he was still hanging in there alright and not suffering too much discomfort. It wasn’t until the doctor reached near the end of the long incision, where the horrible slash seemed to be deeper, the skin was, even now, much more bruised that Jared’s brow creased and he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, biting into the tender flesh in an attempt to quell the desire to make a sound; despite that fact, a soft grunt of pain past Jared’s lips, the sound of which pulled Jensen’s attention from watching the doctor to his lover, his free hand smoothing back Jared’s longish bangs. 

“Almost done, Jare,” he soothed softly. 

Jared nodded in response to Jensen’s gentle words of comfort, afraid to release his lip for fear that more than a soft grunt might leak out, the incision burning as though the doctor had turned from carefully removing the stitches to pouring scalding acid on his skin and each pluck of the stitches felt as though his skin was once again being ripped wide open. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed, both against the pain and the images dancing behind his eyelids of being back in that semi-dark cramped and dirty room with a sociopath mad man kneeling over him. 

A soft whimper broke from Jared’s throat despite himself, causing the doctor to pause and glace toward Jared’s features a second before Jensen shifted his position, his hand that had been smoothing back Jared’s hair pulled away and reached for one of the chairs, dragging it over as he stepped out from behind the head of the table to take a seat near Jared’s head, facing Jared’s face. 

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m here,” he shushed gently, cupping the side of Jared’s face, the side that wasn’t pressed against the cushions of the table, his unscarred side. 

Dr. Moy returned his attention to finishing up, the last of the stitches causing the skin to bleed as they were removed, the incision swollen and red near the end. 

“It’s alright, Jared,” he assured confidently, “There down here are just being a bit more stubborn,” he explained. “It won’t be much longer,” he promised with a nod to his own words as he worked. 

“It’s okay, Jare,” murmured Jensen as the pad of his thumb wiped at the tear that slipped from beneath the fringe of Jared’s long dark lashes. 

Jared nodded again before his tear dampened lashes fluttered and he blinked his eyes open, gazing at Jensen’s face, close to his own. “I know,” he whispered, his voice slightly hoarse. 

He cleared his throat, “Just…” he began and paused as he winced, “Just remembered the first time… the stench of the room…how scared I was…” he murmured softly, so soft that Jensen had to lean a little closer to be able to hear. 

Jensen nodded, “I know, baby, I know,” he comforted. “But it’s alright. You’re not there; you’re here, with me. That bastard can never hurt you again,” he vowed, muscle twitching in his jaw. “Hotch killed him, I watched it happen,” he assured. 

Jared nodded again, “I know,” he murmured with a soft sniffle, his lips pulling into a watery smile, “He…I saw the pictures to prove it,” he rasped softly. 

Jensen remembered the way Jared had adamantly denied that the mad man was dead, was terrified that he would come back and get him, steal him away from the hospital to finish what he’d started and Hotch and his team had finally relented and shown Jared the photographs that had been taken; the outline of the body on the floor next to the metal slab that had held Jared prisoner as well as those of Tate on the gurney, drenched in his own blood. 

Jensen nodded, “Yeah, see?” he murmured with an encouraging smile, curving his lips upward at the corners. “You’re okay…” 

Another soft whine tore from Jared’s throat and his eyes squeezed tightly closed once more causing Jensen to half rise in an attempt to see what had happened. Rich red blood coated the end of the incision and he saw the doctor nod toward the jar of sterile gauze which Rebecca quickly grabbed, not that the doctor didn’t already have some with him. Jensen figured those must have come from the package of medical supplies he’d opened and was laying next to Jared on the table. With the new gauze, Dr. Moy wiped away the blood then pressed the remaining clean gauze to the area as he nodded again toward the cabinet and muttered softly to the nurse for some butterfly bandages and glue. The glue had Jensen quirking a brow but then he hadn’t been living under a rock, he well aware that doctors had turned to the skin glue for typically minor abrasions rather than using stitches. 

Rebecca handed him the needed supplies as well as offering him a bottle of rubbing alcohol which he nodded to, taking the bottle from her hand. He poured some onto one of the clean gauzes then used it to clean the wound before applying the glue with an unnaturally steady hand. Once it was on, he paused a moment and handed the used items back to Rebecca. Laying one hand gently on Jared’s leg, Dr. Moy turned his attention to his patient. 

“How ya holdin’ up there, Jared?” he inquired as he searched his patient’s profile. 

Jared nodded, “Okay,” he grunted softly. 

Patting Jared’s leg, the doctor turned his attention to Jensen, “It’s not uncommon for an incision to bleed a little when we remove the sutures,” he explained. “But since Jared’s seems to want to bleed a bit more than I’d like, I’ve glued the end here together and once that dries a bit, I’m going to add some butterfly bandages just to be safe rather than sorry. I don’t want Jared to get home and have it decide that it wasn’t so give us a really hard time about this and have to have him back or worse, have that small amount of tearing get infected and end up in the E.R.” 

Jensen nodded his understanding, “Yeah, that definitely would not be good,” he agreed. 

Dr. Moy shook his head and returned his attention to Jared, “No, I don’t think so either, our boy here’s been through enough as it is,” he agreed with a soft smile at his patient. 

“Yeah, tell my stitches that,” Jared responded hoarsely. 

Dr. Moy chuckled, “Oh I am, I am,” he assured, “We just speak a different language than most,” he explained with a smile as he turned his attention back to the area of Jared’s stomach where the last four stitches decided to not cooperate. 

Deciding that the glue had dried enough and that he was pleased with how it was doing, no more blood seeping out through the glued skin, the doctor took the butterfly bandages and unwrapped them one by one as he applied them to the area. Once he had finished he nodded to Rebecca that she could take everything, including the small tray that he had opened and sat at Jared’s hip, away. He softly asked her for some sterile wrapping gauze and tape to wrap the area with and after doing so, took the remaining items away and tossed them into the red bio-hazard trash can. 

“Okay, Jared, you can sit up now,” Dr. Moy announced after pulling his patient’s shirt back down. 

He took a step back while Jensen released Jared’s hand and pulled from the chair; reaching for Jared to aid him in sitting up. 

Dr. Moy’s concerned gaze tracked each movement and once Jared was sitting, addressed Jensen rather than his patient. 

“Is that one of our chairs or do you own it, I don’t remember what we did there?” he inquired with a purposeful glance toward the wheelchair. 

“Uh,” Jensen began with a glance of his own toward the chair, “It’s one of yours, he left the hospital with it. Danneel, my wife, and I were gonna buy him one but we were both hoping that maybe after a while he wouldn’t need one,” he replied. 

“Danneel,” the doctor muttered thoughtfully before his lips curved into a wide smile as he nodded, “Oh yes, the feisty red-head,” he concluded. “Right, I remember her now; and yes, he can do without it.”

“In fact, Jared,” he said as he turned his attention back to his patient, “I want you to leave the chair here today. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be up and about,” he explained. “You can have a cane or a walker to help you steady yourself due to the time you’ve spent in the chair, but frankly, I hadn’t imagined you needing it this long,” he gently scolded. 

He then turned his attention back to Jensen, “And I know that you love and care for Jared, but you need to let him do things. If you continue to help him, he is going to continue to rely on that, it’s human nature,” he explained then chuckled, “I would love it if my wife helped me get up every time I sit down,” he mused good naturedly. 

“But you can do it, Jared, I _know_ you can,” he encouraged as he turned back to Jared. 

“One of my nurses will come in and bring you a walker and take the chair,” he continued with a glance at Rebecca who had been on her way toward the door. 

“Yes, sir, I can take that and have one brought in,” she agreed with a smile. 

Detouring over to the chair, she unlocked the breaks and wheeled it over to the door, then out once she had the door opened. 

“As for the dressing, leave it on until bed time then you can change it if it still seems to be oozing. But by morning, well actually let’s go with not showering tomorrow until after lunch. So, get up, have breakfast and just sort of laze around until after lunch and then you can take your shower and the bandage should be removed. No further bandages should be needed at that point. I want it to air out. And while it is bandaged, keep it dry just as you had before with the stitches,” he instructed. 

“Any questions?” he inquired, glancing from Jared to Jensen and back. 

Jensen shook his head, “No, sir,” he replied then turned his attention to Jared with a lift of his brows. 

“What about you?” he inquired. 

Jared shook his head, “No, sir,” he responded softly as his gaze swung from Jensen to the doctor. 

“Alright,” Dr. Moy conceded before starting to turn toward the door only to pause. 

“Oh! Jared, no more wearing the glasses indoors,” he admonished sternly yet gently. “That eye needs to get strong so that they can do the other surgery without worrying that it might damage it more,” he directed.

Turning his attention to Jensen, the doctor continued, “I will let Dr. Archer know that I have released Jared and that as far as I am concerned whenever Dr. Grey says he is ready, I am fine with that.”

Jensen smiled and nodded, “Thank you,” he murmured and glanced at Jared. 

“I do however want to see Jared back in three months, just as a follow up to make sure he isn’t having any issues, but otherwise, call me if you need me.” 

Jensen nodded, “We sure will, thank you,” he said again as he stepped forward, offering the doctor his hand to shake. 

Dr. Moy shook his hand and stepped over to Jared, shaking his as well. 

“You hang in there, Jared, soon you’ll be as good as new, you’re healing very well,” he encouraged.

With another nod to them both, Dr. Moy turned and walked from the room. His voice could be heard in the hall reminding one of the nurses to bring Jared either a cane or walker. 

Crossing the small distance between himself and Jared, Jensen pressed his hands against the table on either side of his lover, his face near Jared’s. 

“So whadda you think?” he murmured. 

Jared nodded, “It’s good,” he muttered. “Not sure how good I’ll be walking all the time, but…” he nodded again. 

“Ah, you’ll be fine,” Jensen encouraged softly before leaning in and pressing a soft chaste kiss to Jared’s lips. 

At the knock on the door, Jensen pulled back and one of his hands off the table, turning toward the door. 

The brunette that had seen them to their room walked in carrying a metal walker with four legs and placed it down in front of Jared. 

“Dr. Moy thinks that this will balance you better,” she explained. 

Jared nodded and began to ease himself up off the table and onto his feet with Jensen right there grasping one side of him in case he became unsteady. 

“Oh!” the nurse added as her attention went to Jensen, “Dr. Moy says that you and the feisty red-head can have it,” she murmured with a slightly confused crease of her brow. 

Jensen chuckled as he nodded to the nurse as released his grip on Jared now that he was holding onto the walker. 

“Thanks, tell him thank you for us,” he responded with a wide smile. 

“I will,” the nurse promised with a nod, returning her attention to Jared. 

“If you two want to follow me out, I’ll take you over to the check-out window and you’ll be all set,” she suggested cheerfully. 

Jensen watched as Jared slowly made his way forward, every muscle in his own body tense with the fear that at any moment Jared was going to go off balance and fall to the floor, but he never did. It was definitely going to be hard to remember not to run to Jared’s aid every time he got up from a chair or the sofa, or bed, or the car, and it was especially going to be hard not to want to hold onto him when he tried to walk across the room, but if Jared could get use to doing all that again, he could get use to letting him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared has been out of the hospital for six weeks and life at Jensen and Danneel’s place is pretty good. Supernatural has gone on without him, as per his request, but Jared still receives fan mail nearly every day. Danneel continues to spoil the hell out of him and what she doesn’t do, Jensen rushes in, when he isn’t on set, and takes care of. Together they’ve managed to give Jared a place where he can feel safe and loved and cared for while he continues to heal and grow stronger both physically as well as emotionally. All things considered, things seems to be going pretty well for Jared Padalecki. That is until a death threat inscribed into the flesh of a murder victim directs the police right back to Jared’s doorstep. It’s then that Agent Hotchner and his team are called back to the City of Angels, where once again they must hunt down a mad man before it’s too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a _Criminal Minds_ crossover with the “Supernatural brat pack”. It is a sequel to the fiction entitled **Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder**. A special thanks goes out once again to Jeff Davis for the creation of Criminal Minds, the set up and some of the words used within this fiction. A special thanks also goes out The Mark Gordon Company and CBS Television/ABC Studios. 
> 
> **Please note:** The author has taken liberties with some of the “facts” herein. Pleased be advised that included within this chapter are pictures/images that I created myself as well as tiggeratl1’s banner and grave stone divider.

_"The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary. Men alone are quite capable of every wickedness."_ ~ Joseph Conrad.

It took a lot longer, once they were checked out of the doctors office, to reach the elevators now that Jared was up and walking with only the walker to aid him, and Jensen had to keep telling himself not to help Jared out, which was one hell of a feat in and of itself, especially with the way Jared’s brow seemed frozen in drawn lines of concentration mingled with the numerous winces as each ‘ _next step_ ’ seemed to cause him twinges of pain. It was another ten minutes once they were out of the elevator and on the ground floor before they reached the hospital doors. Jensen had never been so glad to have valet parked in his life, though even that seemed to take longer than he would have liked, his gaze sweeping the lot for any gawking paparazzi or fans gone wild that wanted to catch a glimpse of their favorite injured Winchester. 

When the jeep pulled up, Jensen hurried out to the valet and handed him a good sized tip for his troubles then pulled open Jared’s door, turning back to help Jared, doctor be damned, get swiftly into the vehicle. Stepping up along side Jared, Jensen wrapped an arm around his waist and walked with him, sort of half dragging him to the opened door of the jeep. Jared’s brow creased, slightly taken aback at Jensen's enthusiasm to get him over to the jeep but then it hit him why and he lifted his own sunglass shaded gaze, searching the lot as they moved. 

“You don’t think anyone is watching do you?” he inquired softly. 

Jensen’s attention snapped up to Jared’s face and he was tempted to lie, to encourage Jared that there wasn’t a snowballs chance in hell that anyone was out there in the hospital lot just hanging out to snap a few pictures of him hobbling out to the car but then he thought better of it. 

He sighed heavily and shook his head as his own eyes surveyed the lot around them, “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. 

“Well, help me get in here just in case,” replied Jared, his jaw set. 

Jensen nodded, “Yeah,” he breathed, “That’s kinda what I was thinkin’ too,” he murmured as he helped Jared get in without bashing his head on the side of the jeep. 

Once he was seated, Jensen picked up the walker and moved it out of the way. “All in?” he asked with a slight quirk of one brow. 

Jared nodded as he winced with pain, one hand going to his cotton covered abdomen and the area where the doctor had bandaged. Jensen’s own jaw clenched with the knowledge that Jared was in pain but for the sake of not getting caught by any idiot paparazzi, he gave a nod and closed the door, snatching up the walker on his way around the back of the jeep. He tossed it into the back without breaking step and continued around to the driver’s side door which the valet had left open and slid in behind the wheel before reaching for the door, pulling it closed. With a glance at Jared, he threw the jeep in gear and headed out of the lot and onto the road leading back to the highway. 

He glanced at Jared when he heard him sigh heavily and his head fell back against the seat, eyes seemingly closed, or what he could see of them through the side of his dark glasses. 

“You okay?” he inquired softly. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he replied with a slight upturn of the corners of his lips, in an attempt to reassure Jensen. 

One hand, the one not still holding his lower stomach, reached for Jensen’s leg, cupping his thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. “M’just tired,” he breathed softly. 

Jensen nodded, lips pressed in a thin line and jaw set grimly, muscle twitching. Turning his attention back to the road, he pressed the gas just a little harder. “Well hang in there, I’ll get us home as fast as I can,” he encouraged gently. 

Despite the promise that he made to Jared, it took them longer to get home, despite Jensen’s maneuvering around the assholes on the road with mid-day traffic, than it did to get to the hospital. 

Pulling into the driveway, Jensen parked the jeep and turned it off, pulling the keys from the ignition before turning his attention to Jared. 

“Well that, as Bobby would say, ‘ _sucked balls_ ’,” he commented. 

“Heh,” Jared breathed the soft chuckle, his lips curving upward into a grin that caused his dimples to show, “actually Bobby just says ‘balls’, not the sucked part,” he corrected without opening his eyes or lifting his head from the head rest. 

“Yeah well,” Jensen muttered with a grunt as he grabbed the door handle and popped open the door, “He would have said it this time,” he assured as he slid from behind the wheel. 

Standing to his feet he tucked the jeep keys into his front pocket and peered back in at Jared, “Stay there and I’ll get your walker,” he murmured. 

Jared nodded, “I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he promised.

Jensen pulled his head back and closed the vehicle’s door, walking around to the back where he grabbed out the walker and carried it around to the passenger side of the jeep. Placing the walker down, Jensen reached for the door handle of the jeep and popped it open, pulling it wide. 

“Alright, let’s get you inside where you can rest,” he muttered. 

Opening his eyes with a sigh of resignation at having to be disturbed, despite the fact that Jensen’s jeep wasn’t exactly the most comfortable vehicle he’d ever been in, Jared sat forward, pulling his long legs from the car as he carefully turned in the seat. 

Reaching for Jared, Jensen wrapped his arm halfway around him, bracing his back as he moved, then reached for him as Jared started to pull to his feet. 

“Heh, be glad Dr. Moy isn’t here to see this,” Jared mused. 

“Fuck Dr. Moy,” Jensen retorted, “It’s your first day out of the chair.” 

Jared chuckled softly as he pulled to his feet and reached for the walker, leaning against it as he got his bearings. After a short pause, he nodded and started to move forward out of Jensen’s grasp and away from the door so that it could be shut behind him. 

Jensen watched Jared as he moved out of his embrace, stubborn ass that he was, which despite Jensen’s misgivings about the idea of Jared just waltzing around now like nothing ever happened, was probably a good thing, or at least it would make Dr. Moy happy. Dr. Moy…. Jensen was beginning to wonder whether or not he ought to make Jared find another doctor. 

He closed the jeep’s door and turned, nearly hovered over Jared as he slowly made his way toward the house, getting slightly frustrated every time he tried to help and Jared shrugged him off. Yep, _way_ too much character bleed. 

He shook his head as he hurried after Jared, passing him and going to the door as he pulled the house key from his front jeans pocket. He hurriedly pulled the screen door open then shoved the key into the slot of the first lock on the inner door and turned it before withdrawing and doing the same on the second lock. 

Glancing back at Jared as he heard him hobble closer, Jensen withdrew the key and turned the door handle, pushing the door open. He stepped into the house with one foot, the other still out on the porch in an attempt to hold both of the doors open while still keeping his eye on Jared and remaining where he could assist him if needed. His gaze ran over the length of Jared, head to foot and walker, watching him progress further toward him. 

“Heh, pretty soon you’re gonna be outpacin’ me, just like before,” he mused teasingly, the jibe an attempt to both make Jared smile and encourage him along. 

Lifting his head, a smile did indeed softly curve Jared’s lips, though his brow was furrowed in concentration. “Yeah, just you wait,” he joked back as his eyes met Jensen’s. 

Jensen smiled and gave a soft slight chuckle, backing up as much as possible what with the door jam behind him, blocking him from being able to move very far, when Jared reached the door in an attempt to give him plenty of room to enter. 

“I’m crippled, not fat,” Jared complained with playful disgruntlement, his slightly slanted eyes narrowing into slits as he paused at the threshold and glared jokingly at Jensen. 

Jensen shrugged, “Hey, I can never tell sometimes what’s muscle and what’s…y’know,” he responded playfully, one eyebrow arched pointedly as his eyes lowered to Jared’s middle. 

Jared scoffed, his lips pressing into a thin line of disgust, “Right,” he drawled with disbelief as he nodded and returned his attention to stepping the rest of the way into the house. 

Jensen chuckled as he slowly followed Jared inside, allowing the screen door to swing closed on its own. Once they were both far enough in, he turned and closed the house door, turning the lock. They’d begun to lock the door if anyone was in the house due to what had happened to Jared, both knowing that he would feel safer plus after that, none of them felt all too sure about being in the house without the lock thrown. Even Misha had started doing the same, it had become a new rule at the Collins house, if anyone was home, they locked themselves in for fear of some hooded maniac storming in and doing God only knew what to any of them. He wasn’t sure if Chris had gotten any more lock happy after everything that had went down or not, he’d had to take off for a gig in England with Carlson shortly after Jared had returned from surgery and he hadn’t heard from Chris since. Not that it was all that uncommon, Chris and Steve tended to get themselves in loads of trouble when they were together, of course they also made some major bucks and cranked out some awesome tunes. He figured at some point there’d be a phone call or a knock on the door in the middle of the night and Chris would come waltzing in with a wide grin on his face; it was all just a matter of time. 

“So,” Jensen began, rubbing his hands together as he watched Jared slowly lower himself down on the plush white living room couch; not that he really understood why in the world it was that Danneel bought a _white_ couch, but there it was. 

“Want some lunch? I could order us something from the deli down the street, have it delivered,” he offered, knowing that there was no way in hell Jared would let him leave to go pick it up. 

He and Danneel never left Jared alone anymore, he didn’t like to be alone now after everything that had happened; in fact he didn’t like the idea of anyone going out alone anymore either. He was, they supposed, slightly paranoid, but they were told that it was to be expected, despite the fact that thanks to Agent Hotchner the man who had done all this to him was now laying six feet under. 

Jared hummed thoughtfully, his lips curved downward into a thoughtful frown as he turned his head and looked up at Jensen as he approached the side of the couch. “They deliver?” he inquired. 

Jensen’s brow furrowed incredulously as he scoffed, “Hell yeah they deliver, how do ya think I survived when we were on break and Danneel was off shooting _Friends with Benefits_?” 

Unless they wanted to fill up on animal crackers dipped in Hershey’s syrup, there wasn’t much that Jensen could do for them in the kitchen, a gourmet chef he was not. As a matter of fact, the only time he had even attempted something past a slice of toast and a cup of coffee had been on his and Danneel’s first Valentines after they were married. He had made her all sorts of desserts to celebrate the holiday; however only _some_ of them were actually edible. 

Jared chuckled as he nodded, knowing all too well from their time having spent living together, when the rumors of their secret love affair were at their peak, just how horrible Jensen was in the kitchen. Ask him to fix a leaky pipe, no problem; a backed up sink, he’s your man, but cooking anything, even scrambled eggs, forget it. You might as well just toss it into the toilet when he finished and cut out the middle man all together. 

“Yeah,” Jared replied at long last, his lips once more turned down into a thoughtful frown as he nodded, “That sounds pretty good,” he agreed. 

“Awesome, lemme go grab their menu, Danni has all the to-go menus shoved in a drawer in the kitchen, gimme a minute,” he mumbled as he turned and headed into the kitchen. 

Jared grinned as he watched him go, stifling the snicker that threatened to bubble out, knowing good and well that Jensen would have to hunt for the damned things since Danni was usually the one to go get them and Jensen had no friggin’ clue which drawer she kept them in. 

“Yeah, hurry back,” he called with teasing spiteful amusement.

Inside the kitchen, Jensen stood behind the counter almost frantically searching through drawer after drawer in search of the elusive menus, and getting more frustrated by the minute as none of them seemed to the correct drawer.

“Okay, Elta, there are only so many drawers in here,” he muttered to himself half under his breath. “Where the hell did you put the damn menus?” 

His eyes widened and he gave a rather loud, “Ah-ha!” as he found the correct drawer. Now all he had to do was shuffle through the endless bounty of to-go menus that Danneel had stashed inside and find the right one. His brow furrowed as he sifted through them and he had to wonder why the hell they had so many, did they never eat a home cooked meal anymore? 

Finally locating the right menu, Jensen shoved the rest back in the drawer and pushed it closed before heading back into the living room. Walking over to where Jared sat, and noting the amused smile on Jared’s lips when he got there, he purposely ignored it and plopped down on the couch next to him. 

“Okay, see if you can find somethin’ you want,” he instructed as he handed Jared the menu. 

Taking the patriot blue printed white menu from Jensen, Jared opened it up and began to scan the items within while Jensen leaned in and peered at the contents from where he sat, snuggled up against his lover’s side. 

“Mmmm,” Jared hummed thoughtfully, “M’thinkin’ a BLT on…toasted wheat bread,” he murmured. 

Jensen’s brows rose, “Mm, yeah that does sound good, think maybe I’ll get that too,” he agreed and started to get up as he reached for the menu only to find himself pausing and sitting back on the seat once more as Jared went on. 

“A baked chicken sandwich with everything…and maybe some tuna salad,” he concluded. 

Jensen sat staring incredulously at his lover, one brow quirked upward, his lips pressed into a thin line of disbelief. “I think ya might’a burned a few calories walkin’ from the jeep to here. You sure you don’t want anything else with that?” he inquired sarcastically before snatching the menu out of Jared’s hand and pulling to his feet. 

“Mm,” Jared nodded as he lifted his gaze to Jensen, “Yeah, add a side Cobb salad,” he directed. 

Jensen stared at Jared in slightly perturbed disbelief, the kid ate like a friggin’ horse, or at least like a man who wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be allowed to eat again. 

“Of course,” he drawled disgustedly at long last before rolling his eyes and turning to head back toward the kitchen, both because if he left it out, Danneel would have a fit and he figured that while he was in there he’d just use the kitchen phone and place the order, killing two birds with one stone. 

“Actually make it a whole salad,” Jared called after him with a grin. 

Jensen nodded slowly as he sighed heavily in disgusted annoyance. It wasn’t that he was mad at Jared or even that he cared how much he ate; it was just the crazy fact that the man ate nearly twice his weight of food in a day and Jensen had no idea where the hell he put it. 

“Do fries come with those?” Jared inquired loudly so that Jensen could hear him from the other room. 

“I think so,” Jensen replied, just as loudly as he snatched the phone out of its base and began punching the number of the deli into it. 

“Okay,” Jared called back, leaning back against the couch with a weary sigh, his head cradled against the back of the couch. 

He allowed his eyes to slip closed, lulled nearly asleep by the soothing timbre of Jensen’s voice as he ordered their late afternoon lunch.

Their food arrived about twenty minutes later and after finishing his BLT and French fries, Jensen was stuffed, he had no clue how it was that Jared could eat all that plus the other things he had ordered, but it seemed that he was. After Jared had finished as well, Jensen carried their containers into the kitchen and tossed them away. After he had returned, he propped his feet up on the coffee table, something he wouldn’t ever do if Danneel was home, talk about getting whacked with a spoon. He wrapped an arm around Jared as he settled back against the cushions of the overstuffed couch, arm lying across the back of it behind Jared. Reaching for the remote, he clicked it on and they spent the early evening hours watching a football game together and then when that ended they switched gears and decided to each picked one episode from each season of Supernatural for them to watch, barring season four so that they wouldn’t have to see Genevieve and mourn the loss of her all over again. While they watched, they each made fun of the other brother along with flirtatiously shouting things at their brother counterpart; Jared having said something along the lines of fucking the swagger out of Dean’s walk, which had led to a heated debate regarding whether or not the elder Winchester actually swaggered or not. And Jensen called out something to the effect of that he would fuck Sam so hard he’d fuck the tall right out of him.

It was sometime between Swan Song and Time After Time that Jared began to yawn repeatedly signaling to Jensen that it was time to turn off the DVD player and the television and get to bed. Danneel still had yet to arrive home and despite the fact that it concerned Jensen, he didn’t mention it, not wanting to panic Jared. Pulling to his feet with a weary sigh of his own as he stretched, Jensen stepped over to the DVD player and ejected the disk, placing it back into its holder before reaching down and manually turning off the television. 

“Come on, baby,” he murmured gently as he crossed back over to where Jared was sitting, “Let’s go to bed,” he suggested with a jerk of his head to the side in the direction of Jared’s room. 

Reaching for Jared with one hand, Jensen held him under the arm as Jared grabbed the walker, moving it from where he had stashed it at the end of the couch, to right in front of him and then slowly, and with a soft grunt, pulled off the couch and to his feet, pausing a moment to get his balance once he was standing. 

He lifted his gaze to Jensen and offered a slightly lopsided smile, “Sorry,” he offered almost breathlessly. 

Jensen shook his head, “Nothin’ to be sorry about, we got all night,” he responded. “You’re doin’ good.” 

Jensen slowly backed up with each step that Jared took, guiding him from the living room, toward his bedroom. 

“It’s only ten o’clock, I kinda feel like an old man going to bed at ten o’clock,” Jared mused with a soft chuckle at his own expense. 

“Nah, you had a tough day, nothin’ wrong with goin’ to bed at a decent hour,” Jensen corrected. 

A loud clap of thunder filled the otherwise silence of the house like a bad sound clip from an old B-rated horror flick, drawing Jensen’s attention heavenward. 

“Eh, sounds like we’re in for a helluva storm anyway,” he deduced, “Good sleepin’ weather,” he concluded with a nod as he lowered his attention back to Jared.

On the other side of Los Angeles, the rain had already begun to fall; beating down hard against rooftops, pummeling the earth below as though it were angry and had a score to settle with the ground.

A dark shadow moved silently through one of the homes along the wealthier sections of the city; his face and features obscured by both a dark hoodie and an equally dark mask. Blood splatters dotted the pristine white walls like the canvas of an expressionist artist and pools of the sticky crimson liquid covered the high polished tiles, leading from the entryway into the kitchen where two dead bodies lay marinating in pools of blood. Carved into the bared thigh muscle of one of the victims, his jeans sliced and ripped, the denim split and pulled back exposing the victim’s entire thigh muscle, a single word was carved into the skin, a name; the bright scarlet hue of the corpses’ blood highlighting the word like the bright lights of a neon sign in the darkness. 

Light reflected off the bloodied blade, held in one hand, as the hooded figure turned away from the bodies strewn uncaringly across the floor, “Come out, come out wherever you are,” he sing-songed to no one in particular, the end of the sentence melting into crazed laughter as it bubbled dementedly from the killer’s throat.

Standing next to Jared’s side of his bed, or at least the side he slept on when Jensen shared the bed with him, Jensen helped Jared remove his shirt as he sat upon the beds edge, his walker moved to an area in the corner of the room nearby.

Pulling Jared’s polo up and over his head, Jensen tossed it across the room and into the laundry hamper before leaning over, bending at the waist as he pressed his hands to the mattress on either side of Jared and pressed his lips against his lover’s in a semi-chaste open mouthed kiss, kissing him slowly, languidly, sucking Jared’s bottom lip into his mouth before releasing it with a soft pop as he pulled his head back. His lips curved into a wide grin as he gazed adoringly into Jared’s cat-like hazel eyes. 

Jared returned Jensen smile, dimples pressing into his cheeks as his face turned a soft hue of pink. “What was that for?” he inquired softly. 

Shrugging a shoulder Jensen slowly pulled back and stood to his full height, “Because I love you,” he responded simply. 

Jared chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze lowering briefly as he did so before lifting once more to Jensen. “I love you too,” he murmured. 

“Alright well, as Dean would say, let’s not get all girly about it,” Jensen joked, a wide grin splitting his face and causing the skin at the corners of his eyes to crinkle. 

Laughing, Jared nodded again, “Yeah,” he agreed softly as he swung his legs up onto the bed and laid back. 

He’d kicked off his shoes sometimes during the football game and they still sat out beside the sofa, a fact that would have Danneel preaching to both he and Jensen about the dangers of trip hazards. 

Jensen stood staring down at the long scar that nearly ran the entire length of Jared’s body, chest to groin, ending just below the waistband of his jeans, proof that the bastard had stripped Jared of his clothes. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he remembered with vivid clarity the way Jared had looked when he’d run down those cellar steps and found him, with Agent Hotchner standing over the dead body of the psychopathic bastard. 

Jared reached for the fastenings of his jeans, his gaze flickering between that and Jensen’s face as he remained standing over him, watching. 

“Heh, I think I can get my own pants off,” he mused with another chuckle. 

“Huh?” Jensen questioned as he blinked rapidly in an attempt to push away those memories from his mind. 

“Oh, right, yeah…” he mumbled as Jared’s words slowly penetrated the fog that had clouded his brain with those images. 

Drawing his attention away from Jared, he turned and headed toward the end of the bed and around, to his own side. With another glance at Jared, while his lover was busy wiggling his way out of his jeans, Jensen secretly vowed that he would never allow anything or anyone to hurt Jared like that ever again. Clearing his throat, he tore his gaze away once again and reached for the hem of his own shirt, pulling it up and over his head then tossing into the same hamper that he had Jared’s. He toed off his boots then and kicked them half under the bed before reaching for the fastenings of his jeans, deftly undoing the button and lowering the zipper. He glanced up at Jared, seeing the denim pull free of his lover’s body out of the corner of his eye and watched as Jared tossed his jeans down onto the floor while pushing his own down his hips and, as he bent at the waist, his thighs. He pulled his legs out of his pants, one foot at a time, lifting his legs high while standing on the cuff of the other side, effectively ridding himself of his jeans. He pulled his gaze from Jared and turned, sitting down on the side of the mattress and lifted one leg at a time, pulling his socks off and biting his lower lip, flung them one at a time across the room in an almost game to see if he could make a basket with them into the hamper. His lip slipped free of his teeth with the last throw and once he was bare save for his boxers, he turned on the bed and swung his legs up onto the mattress before rolling over to face Jared, head propped up in his hand, elbow bent against the pillows. He watched Jared pull his legs up one at a time, almost the same way he did, only Jared was lying on his back and doing it as he removed his socks. 

A smile curved his lips once Jared turned toward him, his body bare other than boxer briefs. “Hi,” he murmured softly. 

Jared grinned wide, dimples denting his cheeks, “Hi,” he replied just as softly. 

Leaning in, Jensen kissed Jared, a gentle press of lips to lips at first before his tongue darted out to tease at the seam of Jared’s lips and slowly slip in past his lips, sliding along side Jared’s own tongue. His free hand lifted from the bed and reached out, cupping the side of Jared’s jaw as their tongues tangled and dueled languidly. Nipping gently at Jared’s bottom lip, Jensen slowly ended the kiss and pulled his head back, searching Jared’s eyes lovingly as they languidly cracked open to passion glazed slits. His lips curved into an adoring smile before he leaned in again and lightly brushed his lips across Jared’s, ignoring the fact that more than his lips had taken notice at what they were doing. He pulled his head back and licked his lips before pulling his hand away from Jared’s jaw line and rolled, pressing both elbows into the pillows before reaching for the switch to turn off the lamp sitting on the night stand beside him. 

“’G’Night, baby,” he murmured as the light was snuffed out. 

Jared didn’t answer; instead he shifted his position so that he lay on his back staring up at the ceiling, a frown creasing his brow. Silence rang supreme within the walls of the house; the only noise was the low hum of the air conditioning and that of the thunder and rain outside. Finally, he turned his head toward Jensen, his brow creasing further at the way Jensen was turned onto his side, facing away from him. 

“Jen,” he called softly. 

“Mm?” Jensen grunted sleepily. 

“Are you…I dunno…mad at me about somethin’? Jared inquired. 

Jensen immediately rolled over onto his back and reached an arm toward Jared, pulling him in against his side. “No, what makes you think that?” 

“I dunno,” Jared replied with a slight shrug. “You just…You turned over…” 

Jensen quirked a brow, “I thought you were tired, you kept yawning out in the living room.”

Jared slowly shook his head and shifted up onto an elbow. “No, I - I actually thought that maybe we could try to make love,” he murmured tentatively. 

Moment of truth, either Jensen would agree to give it a try or if he was already sleeping with Misha he’d tell him no. He wasn’t totally positive but he was pretty sure that he was actually holding his breath as he awaited Jensen’s response. 

Jensen brow knitted with worry as he rose up onto his elbows, his gaze searching Jared’s face in the darkness. “Are you sure you’re okay to do that?” he inquired. 

Jared nodded, “I wanna try,” he urged. 

Jensen nodded and his tongue darted out, licking thoughtfully across his lips, “Okay,” he allowed. “We can give it a shot.” 

Breath whooshed out of Jared as he sighed heavily with relief, a wide grin curving his lips as he gazed adoringly at his lover, barely able to make out his features in the darkness of the room.

With the lights still off, casting the room in shadowy darkness, Jensen’s body lightly draped half of Jared’s, his leg sliding against his lover’s while making sure not to put pressure against Jared’s incision, especially the end area which was still bandaged up. His tongue languidly teased and tangled with Jared’s before capturing the tip of it between his lips, suckling at it gently as soft moans broke from each of their throats. Their hands explored, relearning one another’s body despite the cotton of their boxers and boxer-briefs blocking part of the way, while they made out like teenagers at a dive-in movie.

Jensen knew that they had to move slowly and at Jared’s pace, it was the mantra that he continued to tell himself while they kissed, never pushing Jared further than he was willing to go, and taking each step slowly and tentatively in order to make sure that Jared was comfortable with it. He knew that Jared hadn’t actually been raped; the doctors had pulled out a rape kit in the ER just to be sure due to the way all of the other victims had been molested while they had been held captive by Tate. Of course, that didn’t mean that what Jared had endured wasn’t enough to make him a bit skittish about jumping right back into the saddle, so to speak. It was a fact that Jensen knew all too well even with having been gone to Vancouver for work only a few days after Jared had been released from the hospital. 

Releasing his hold on Jared’s tongue, Jensen tipped his head slightly downward, capturing his lover’s bottom lip between his own and sucked gently at it before allowing it to slip free on a soft pop as a moan tore from deep in his throat. His eyes were heavy lidded as he opened them to gaze desirously down into Jared’s face, their eyes meeting as Jared opened his own passion glazed eyes, his lids just as heavy as Jensen’s. 

“So beautiful, Jare,” Jensen breathed softly. 

Jared shook his head, a mournful look passing over his eyes as he turned his head and pressed the scarred side of his face against the pillow, hiding it away from his love despite the fact that the darkness of the room cloaked them and made them difficult to see. “No, Jen, you are,” he retorted softly without looking back at him. 

Jensen’s lips curved upward at the corners into a soft almost sad smile, “So are you, Jare,” he insisted gently and reached out, slipping his hand between Jared’s cheek and the pillow and turned his lover’s head back so he could look him in the eye as he slowly shook his head. 

“Even with these there,” he murmured, brushing the pad of his thumb along one of the longer scars that extended from his temple down to his just below his eye. 

Jared scoffed softly and gave his head a slight shake though to his credit, he didn’t argue beyond that. Instead he allowed the hand of his arm around Jensen to slide massaging up and down Jensen’s back while his other hand lifted from the mattress, cupping Jensen’s cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly across the sprinkling of freckles along his lover’s cheek bone. 

“Always been so beautiful,” he whispered. 

“Yeah well, I blame Oil of Olay,” he muttered with a playful roll of his eyes. 

His words did exactly as they were intended to do, eliciting a chuckle to fall from Jared’s lips, pulling him out of the dark corners of his mind, which in turn drew one from Jensen. 

“Oil of Olay, huh?” Jared mused with a nod. “I’ll have to keep that in mind, raid Danni’s makeup cabinet.” 

“You do that, she’s liable to tackle your overgrown ass to the ground,” Jensen warned with a wide smirk and another soft, somewhat husky chuckle. 

Jared chuckle softly in return as he nodded, “Yeah, I could see that happenin’,” he agreed gently. 

Jensen echoed his nod and his soft chuckle, “Oh yeah, you don’t mess with Danni’s makeup,” he mused, widening his eyes exaggeratedly to emphasize the horror of doing so, which had them both chuckling softly. 

Jensen hummed softly as his laughter died away and his gaze roamed over Jared, his eyes adoringly searching his lover’s before he leaned in once more after having caught his breath and slanted his mouth back over Jared’s. The fingers of his hand that had tenderly cupped Jared’s cheek, slipped back, carding into the soft strands of Jared’s hair and slipped in between the pillow and the back of Jared’s head, cradling it as they kissed. Soft moans tumbled from each of their throats only to be eaten up in the kiss as their tongues tangled and slid against one another. Their teeth nipped at each other’s lips and clanked softly together as the kiss grew more passionate and hungry, devouring one another‘s mouths. One of Jensen’s legs hooked itself around one of Jared’s as he rolled his hips, sliding his hard length against Jared’s hip wantonly eliciting a low grunted groan to break from deep in his throat. 

Jared sucked in an audible breath as he tore his lips from Jensen’s, the crash of thunder and brilliant flash of lightening seemed to punctuate the movement, lighting the room briefly before darkness and shadows reclaimed their rightful places within the room. His sides heaved, chest rising and falling heavily as he panted his breaths out from between softly parted lips while gazing desirously up at Jensen in the darkness. 

Jensen’s brow creased with concerned confusion, worried that perhaps he had pushed Jared too far, too fast. He slipped his hand out from under Jared’s head and cupped the scarred side of his face, his thumb softly brushing along his cheek bone. His lips parted with the intent to ask Jared what it was that was wrong, only to have Jared interrupt him before he could get the words past his lips. 

“I love you, Jen,” Jared blurted. 

Jensen’s lips curved into a tender smile and his lips parted again to reciprocate only to have Jared once again cut him off as he continued. 

“Please…” Jared shook his head as he gazed beseechingly up at Jensen, tears stinging the corners of his eyes and causing him to repeatedly blink with the hope that he could keep them from falling and slipping miserably down his cheeks. “Don’t leave me for Misha,” he begged. 

If Jensen’s brow was creased before it was deeply furrowed now as he stared incredulously down at Jared. 

“What the hell are you talking about? Where…? Who gave you that crazy ass idea?” he demanded. 

Jared cringed back against the pillow, his eyes slipping away from Jensen’s hurt gaze, unable to look at his lover after what he had all but accused him of. 

“I just…” he mumbled with a shrug of one shoulder. “I dunno…the phone calls and you goin’ over to his house after you got back…”

Jensen huffed and his lips pressed into a thin line of frustration as he searched Jared’s features. He drew in a calming breath and tried not to yell at his fool of a lover for being such a stupid jackass. 

“Jared, _you know_ that sometimes I go over to Misha’s after we get home from Vancouver. Hell, you used to go with me! I go by to see West, say hi to Vicky and hang with my friend, it’s _nothing_ like what you’re thinking,” he insisted. 

“Besides, if Misha had even one more person to fuck we’d have to hook his ass up to IV fluids,” he reasoned sarcastically. 

Jared gave a harsh laugh and shook his head, his features pulled dejectedly, “Jen,” he sighed, turning his attention back to his lover as a tear made its way down one cheek. 

“I mean, _look at me_ , I’m not the guy you fell in love with, I…I look like _Frankenstein’s monster_!” Jared exclaimed miserably.

Jensen scoffed, “No you don’t,” he argued and lifted hand, wiping away the tear that had escaped and rolled down Jared’s cheek with the pad of his thumb, “There isn’t a bit of green on you,” he joked, a warm teasing smile curving the corners of his lips. 

“Jen, I’m serious,” Jared retorted disgustedly. 

“So am I,” Jensen responded. “Jay, I didn’t fall in love with you because you were hot,” he reasoned. 

“Well okay, my dick did, but my heart…“ he shook his head, “that came later, after I got to know you. And no matter what else happens, you’ll always be that tall skinny bean pole that knocked my socks off when I looked him up online.” 

Jared’s lips twitched tentatively up at the corners, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Jensen assured, a smile of his own curving his lips. “Jay, Misha’s just my friend, my best friend next to Chris. I spend time with him because we have fun together, not because I wanna join that Circus O’ Sex he’s got going over there at his place,” he explained gently. 

“Besides, where would I fit in, between Vicky and Trish?” he inquired incredulously then huffed, “They’d probably put me in charge of watchin’ West,” he concluded with a put-upon frown. “And I don’t even know sign language!” he exclaimed incredulously. 

Jared couldn’t help the chuckle that broke from between his lips due to the how Jensen was summing up what would happen in that situation. 

“Oh yeah, laugh, but you know I’d be bringing West over here and then Danni would kill me because she sure as hell doesn’t know how to sign,” he went on, eyes wide with alarm at his wildly exaggerated tale. 

Jared continued to laugh at just how animated Jensen was getting and how ridiculous the story he was concocting really was. “Okay,” he said between spurts of laughter, “Okay, you’ve made your point.” 

Jensen sighed and relaxed against Jared, “Good, cause I was about to break into the idea just how scary the idea of Misha bending me over really was,” he grumbled with an exaggerated shudder. “He’d probably wind up giving me a home proctology exam first,” he mused, “And he’d do it just because he’d think it was _fun_ ,” he added as an after thought. 

Jared snorted on a burst of laughter as he struggled to stifle it, his face turning a deep red shade as he held it in though his eyes danced with amusement, the tears no longer tears of sadness but of laughter. 

“Yeah, laugh, it’s not _your_ ass with Misha’s gloved finger rootin’ around in it,” Jensen grumbled, eyes tightening in playful annoyance. 

Jensen’s angry expression, fake as it was, melted away and he shook his head as he gazed down at Jared affectionately, “Jare, you and Danni are my world, I don’t want anyone else; Misha and Chris, yeah they’re my best friends, but you and Danni…” he shook his head, “Irreplaceable.” 

Leaning in again, once Jared seemed to be more at ease and reassured of Jensen’s love for him, Jensen recaptured Jared’s mouth with his own, slanting his lips over his lover’s, his tongue teasing at the corners of Jared’s mouth before slipping in between his lips to tease at his palate and tangling his tongue with his lover’s. 

The taste and feel of Jared returning his kiss, tangling his tongue with his own tore a low groan from deep in Jensen’s throat. He moved a hand, sliding it down the warm soft skin of Jared’s side before shifting it and slipping the palm of his hand down over Jared’s cotton clad arousal. He tightened his hand into a around the hard length of Jared‘s shaft and squeezed his lover’s dick gently while his own hips bucked against Jared’s hip, causing the pre-come that had pearled at the tip of his dick to smear against his lover’s skin. 

A deep groan broke from Jensen’s throat and as he broke the kiss and dipped his head, his softly parted lips brushed teasingly against the crook of Jared’s neck, warm breath fanning the tender flesh as he panted out his breaths. “God, you're so hot, Jay,” Jensen breathed against his lover‘s skin. 

Lifting his head he gazed desirously down into his lover’s eyes, his mouth only inches away from Jared’s, their hot breath fanning against each other’s lips as they breathed in one another’s breaths. 

“Oh God, fuck,” Jared breathed, his own hips thrusting his hard cock against Jensen’s palm through the soft cotton of his Abercrombie and Fitch boxer-briefs. 

“So perfect,” he sighed breathlessly, eyes nearly rolling back in his head. 

“God yeah…” Jensen breathed softly before dipping his head again and this time nipping at the hollow of Jared’s throat. 

A strangled groan broke form Jared’s throat as he moved one hand, lightly cupping the back of Jensen’s head and his hips bucked upward wantonly, grinding his throbbing length against his lover’s hand. 

“Please, Jen,” he begged breathlessly. “Want…need you…so bad,” he breathed as he writhed against the mattress. 

Jensen moaned from where he was teasing the hollow of Jared’s throat with his tongue and teeth, scraping them gently over the sensitive skin then swirling his tongue against it, licking away the sting. Lifting his head, he locked eyes with Jared and licked his lips thoughtfully. 

“How do you wanna do this?” he inquired huskily, his words slightly breathless and nearly the same deep rasp of Dean’s. 

He knew it was a stupid question, it wasn’t like they hadn’t done this nearly a million times now since they’d fallen head over heels in love at the beginning of the show, and yet it was different, he was playing by a whole new set of rules, rules that only Jared could make up now, after everything that had happened. 

Jared stared up at him, blinking owlishly at the question, not knowing exactly how to answer it or why Jensen had even asked. “Uh, I don’t…” he shook his head, “I…I didn’t have a _plan_ really,” he conceded. “I just thought…you know…what we always do…what happens naturally…” 

Jensen nodded, “Okay,” he assured gently. “I just…if you need to stop,” he murmured as his eyes searched his lover’s, “Just say the word, alright, Jare?” 

Jared’s lips curved upward into an adoring smile as he nodded, “How’d I get so lucky?” he mused, lifting his hand that had fallen aside when Jensen had lifted his head and cupping Jensen’s cheek with it. 

“Right show, right co-star,” Jensen responded with a smirk. 

Jared’s shoulders shook slightly as he chuckled and nodded his agreement, “Remind me to send Eric a fruit basket,” he murmured, a teasing light dancing in the kaleidoscope of colors in Jared’s eyes. 

“You realize that Dean would totally not approve of this little chick-flick moment we’re having don’t you?” Jensen mused with a smirk. 

Jared snorted as he nodded and pulled his hand away from Jensen‘s cheek, cupping the nape of his neck, fingers toying with the fine hairs there, “Yeah,” he agreed with a bemused smirk, “Let’s have another one,” he suggested. “Just to _really_ piss him off,” he suggested with a lift of his brows as his eyes widened playfully eliciting soft wicked laughter from the both of them. 

Jared’s idea was answered, just as Jensen leaned in and slanted his mouth back over his lover’s, by another bright flash of lightening that lit the entire room followed by a booming clap of thunder as though somewhere out there, Dean Winchester was most definitely _not_ approving.

_"Almost all absurdity of conduct arises from the imitation of those whom we cannot resemble."_ ~ Samuel Johnson.

Drawing his lips away from Jensen’s, Jared sucked in an audible breath, his hands lowering to the waistband of his lover’s boxers, tugging them downward. “Off,” he breathed. “Please, Jen, take ’em off,” he murmured breathlessly as he continued to tug almost frantically at Jensen‘s boxers.

“Okay, baby, okay,” Jensen murmured soothingly before rolling off his lover’s and onto his back, his own hands lowering to the waistband of his boxers. 

He pushed them down over his hips and groin causing his hard cock to spring free of the cotton confinement. He continued to push them downward, along his thighs and as he curled pulled his legs up, knees toward his chin, he pulled the garment free of his body and allowed it to sling shot in the direction of the hamper. He totally understood Jared’s desperation, they hadn’t been together like this since the end of the last season of _Supernatural_ , having spent the summer apart to help squelch the fandom rumors of them being a real life couple and then added to that had been the trauma of what’d happened in August leaving them separated again with it was time to begin filming. With all that happening, it was going on a little over four months since they’d been together like this and need for one another was clawing at them both like the claws of one of the monsters their television personas fought on a day to day basis. 

Once free of his boxers, Jensen rolled back over toward Jared and dipped his head, nip kissing along the long line of Jared’s throat as he hooked a leg over his lover’s and his arm wrapped around Jared, pulling him in close against his body. He rolled his hips against the firm muscle of Jared’s thigh; the sensation of his dick dragging against his lover’s leg elicited wanton groans out of both of them and causing Jared’s hips to buck instinctually, wantonly, hungrily as he gasped in an audible breath. 

“Please, Jen,” he groaned thickly as his hands went to the waistband of his own boxer-briefs, shoving furiously at them. 

“Shhh, s’okay, baby,” Jensen comforted against the smooth skin of Jared’s neck. 

Pulling his arm from where it had been draped over Jared’s middle, he smoothed his hand down over his lover’s smooth chest comfortingly before meeting Jared’s hands at the waistband of his briefs. He noticed long ago, just after Jared had been allowed to take his first shower after his surgery that Jared had begun shaving it again. He hadn’t said anything about it, but he knew that Jared had done it for him due to the fact that he had mentioned a time or two when Jared had stopped shaving, just how much better he liked it when it was smoothly shaven rather than with the patch of wiry dark hair along his breast bone. He also knew that the only reason Jared had let it grow out to begin with was because Genevieve liked his chest with the hair, and they had been trying really hard to pass off the marriages to the fandom. Unlike his own marital arrangement, Jared and Genevieve hadn’t known one another long and it was more of a financial agreement between the three of them rather than what he had, which was a deep and enduring love for a woman who had been a long time friend and confidant and with whom his feelings ran deep enough that as long as she allowed his relationship with Jared along with their relationship, he was happy and content to stay right where he was, at least until _Supernatural_ was over and their being lover’s wasn’t such an issue. He understood the reasons for it; he had to agree with them to a point regarding their concern at having America learn that the two guys who played brothers on a television show were, after hours, lovers. Somehow the fact that in real life he and Jared were the farthest thing from related wouldn't cross their minds due to being unable to separate them from the Winchesters and it would be everywhere that the brothers from _Supernatural_ were in an incestuous relationship; sometimes being in the lime light was not all that it’s cracked up to be. 

Pulling his head back from Jared’s neck he gaze passionately down at his lover, “You want me to take ’em off?” he suggested huskily, his voice deep and whisper soft. 

“God, yeah,” Jared agreed, nodding adamantly. “Wanna feel you,” he breathed as his hips stuttered upward wantonly. 

Jensen’s lips pulled into a smile as he rose up into nearly a seated position before pivoting around on one knee, throwing a leg over one of Jared’s followed by the other until he was kneeling between his lover’s spread legs. 

Jared’s chest rose and fell heavily with his panted breaths, which broke from between his softly parted lips, as he stared up at the darkened silhouette of his lover. Another similar, yet very sinister and unwelcome scene suddenly shot through Jared’s mind, playing itself out in his head as he stared up at Jensen; one in which he was still in the same vulnerable position, but it was no longer his lover that knelt there, instead it was the psychopathic mad man who’d held him captive not so long ago in his cellar. 

_Oh God, I can’t do this, I can’t do this!_ Jared’s panicked mind cried out as his eyes widened and his breaths kicked up a notch with his fear. 

He started to squirm, edging himself back away from the person who was kneeling there now, the irrational fear that it was all happening all over again pushing him to fight back. His legs jerked upward, knees bent and feet planted against the bed as he’d been about to fight back against the darkened shadow of whoever it was kneeling there between his legs when a bright flash of lightening followed directly by crashing boom of thunder split the darkness around them, revealing Jensen’s features briefly before inky darkness swallowed the light once more. 

Jensen had been about to reach for the waistband of Jared’s briefs when he noticed the way Jared seemed to be inching back along the mattress as though trying to nonchalantly back away from him. His brow creased with concerned confusion and before he could ask, the room was alight with the crackle of lightening from the storm outside. It was then that he got a glimpse of Jared’s terrified expression, his eyes almost comically wide, though what was causing Jared’s alarm was anything but funny. 

“It’s okay, Jay,” Jensen soothed softly as he reached down and ran his hand along the outside of his lover’s thigh. 

“Huh?” Jared breathed before nodding as he throat convulsed, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” he breathed, nodding again, “Yeah, I - I know,” he murmured softly and somewhat breathlessly. 

Jensen’s one eyebrow quirked upward skeptically, the action very Dean-like as he gazed down at the shadowy figure of his lover spread out on the mattress. “Uh-huh,” he muttered under his breath to himself though otherwise he refrained from any argument on the matter. 

Lowering his gaze back to the darkened silhouette of Jared’s body, Jensen drew his hand away from his lover’s thigh and reached for the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them slowly down his body, his thumbs dipping into the waistband to lift the elastic away from Jared’s cock as he pulled the fabric down, watching as his lover’s hard length was freed, the thick shaft of his lover’s erection arching upward toward Jared’s navel. 

“God, baby…” Jensen breathed almost reverently. 

Unknown to his lover, Jared had begun to panic all over again when darkness won out over the bright momentary flashes of light that the storm had offered, the shadows that once more stretched out from every corner seemed to taunt him and remind him of another darkness, another room where a darkened silhouette had loomed over him. His breath caught in his throat and his heart skipped a beat in his chest when he felt the movement of fingertips against his sides before they tucked themselves beneath the elastic waistband of his briefs. He flung a hand over his mouth and pressed his lips tightly together behind it in an attempt to hold in the whimper of fear that wanted to break from his throat which convulsed as he swallowed thickly against the sound. Unshed tears stung his eyes as he turned his head away from the darkened figure and squeezed his eyes closed against the knowledge that it was even there. He tried to tell himself that it was only Jensen; Jensen who loved him, but his foul mind would allow him to believe it, flashing images and memories up behind his closed eyelids like a theatre screen. It was the sound of Jensen’s breathlessly whispered words that brought him back from the nightmare playing out in his minds eye, and it was also what had him turning his head back toward the sound of that voice as he pried opened his eyes and gazed up at the shadowy figure. 

“Need to lift your hips, baby,” Jensen murmured gently, having gotten his lover’s briefs as far down as his bent legs and ass pressed against the mattress would allow. 

Jared shook his head adamantly and squeezed his eyes closed before blinking them back open again, the motions causing the tears that he had kept at bay until then to drop onto his cheek and slowly roll down along the contour of his face. He allowed his hand to slip down from his mouth to lie against his chest as his lips parted to speak only to have the words get lodged in his throat. Pressing his lips together, he shook his head again, a gesture that he wasn’t even sure if Jensen could see. 

He swallowed hard and tried again to respond. “I can’t,” he managed to whisper, the words hoarse and choked, so soft that he knew that there was no way Jensen had heard him. 

“Jare?” Jensen gently coaxed, moving a hand from the waist of his lover’s briefs and over to his hip which he tenderly cupped, the pad of his thumb gently brushing back and forth against the jut of bone in slow soothing motions. 

His brow creased with confusion and worry when there was no answer and it wasn’t until another bright flash of lightening lit the room, only to be followed by a great loud booming crash of thunder, that Jensen realized what was going on, having caught a perfect view of Jared’s features in that brief flicker of light before darkness settled over them once more. The sight that he’d seen had Jensen feeling as though the wind had been punched from his lungs, forget Sam Winchester’s puppy-eyed beseeching looks, this was like seeing the Jolly Green Giant reduced to being no bigger than Sprout and fifty times more vulnerable, the stark terror he had seen in Jared‘s wide eyes had him nearly feeling nauseous or like he‘d been kicked in the stomach, he wasn‘t completely sure which. 

“Oh God, Jare,” he breathed, slight panic seeping into his own voice. 

Jared’s heart somersaulted in his chest and humiliation at the knowledge that the lightening had spotlighted that which the shadows had held in secrecy seemed to squeeze his heart in a vise and a burning ache settled itself on top of his breast bone. Swallowing hard against the lump that burned in his throat, he rolled his head to the side, facing away from his lover. He didn’t even want to imagine just how pathetic and vulnerable, how _weak_ he must have looked to Jensen and he definitely didn’t want to see the look of pity on Jensen’s face that he could hear in his voice. He squeezed his eyes squeezed tightly closed as if that would somehow change what Jensen had seen or erase the past two months from existence.

“Please don’t…” Jared mumbled softly, so soft it the words would have rivaled a whisper for volume. 

Jensen stared, god smacked and dumbfounded, his lips parted with his breaths as his eyes searched Jared’s shadowed features. “Oh, Jare, I’m so sorry,” he murmured gently. 

Leaning forward and to one side of Jared’s body, Jensen moved from between his lover’s legs and eased himself down on the mattress next to Jared. Turning away briefly, Jensen reached up toward the nightstand and clicked on the lamp before turning back to face Jared, wrapping his arm around his lover and drawing Jared in close, pressing his lover’s large body up against his own. 

Burying his face against the side of Jensen’s neck, Jared allowed the tears that he had been holding at bay as best as he could to slip free, weeping softly against the warm smooth skin of his lover’s throat. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed hoarsely, hot breath fanning against tear dampened flesh. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, Jare, it’s okay,” Jensen hushed gently as he tightened his grip around Jared, pulling his lover’s body half onto his own. 

Lifting the hand of the arm that wasn’t around Jared, Jensen smoothed his hand down the back of his lover’s moppish hair repeatedly. 

Jared leaned marginally back into the touch of Jensen’s hand petting his hair though his face remained hidden against his lover’s neck as he cried, releasing all the pent up fears and anger that he’d held in for so many weeks now. 

“Jare, we don’t have to do this now,” Jensen offered gently, feeling the way his lover‘s body trembled in his arms. “We can wait, however long you need to, baby, we can wait.” 

Jared sniffled and shook his head, the motion smearing tears and snot on across Jensen’s neck. “No,” he began before lifting his head, “I don’t wanna wait,” he retorted, looking into Jensen’s face. 

Jensen sighed inwardly and a soft chuckle broke from between his lips which curved into a sympathetic smile. His eyes searched Jared’s features noting just how gut-wrenchingly pathetic and child-like Jared looked in that moment with his eyes rimmed red the color nearly matching that of the tip of his nose. His tears, both dried and wet marred his handsome features with their salty tracks and pooled in small droplets in the groves of the corners of his eyes. 

“Baby,” he began gently as he shook his head. “You’re not ready, it’s okay.” 

“No,” Jared insisted, “I’m okay.” 

“Just,” he began with a brief glance past Jensen at the lamp before returning his gaze to Jensen’s once more as he sniffled and gave a curt nod, “Just leave the light on. I’m okay with it on,” he assured. 

A muscle pulsed in Jensen’s jaw as he searched Jared’s eyes for the truth of his words. Finally, after a long indecisive silence, he begrudgingly relented and nodded to Jared’s pleas. “Alright,” he allowed softly.

Jared offered Jensen a tentative smile before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you,” he whispered as he pulled his head back, his gaze locked on Jensen’s. 

The corners of Jensen’s lips twitched upward in response, “Love you too,” he murmured gently. 

Jared allowed his gaze to lower to his boxer-brief before lifting pointedly back to Jensen’s eyes. “I think I’m over dressed,” he mused, shifting one hand down, curling his fingers around his lover’s cock. 

“Heh,” Jensen breathed a soft chuckle, the corners of his lips quirking upward marginally as his gaze pulled away from Jared’s, lowering to his lover’s large hand wrapped around his erection before lifting once more to Jared’s gaze. “Guess maybe you are,” he agreed. 

“Take ’em off for me?” he implored softly as he searched the sparkling depths of Jensen’s verdant eyes. 

Jensen paused the span of a heartbeat before pressing his lips together in a thin determined line as he gave a curt nod. “Yeah,” he breathed softly, “Okay,” he agreed. 

Pulling slowly away from Jared, giving his lover time to pulled away and onto his back, Jensen sat up completely then rolled toward Jared onto his knees before tossing a leg over Jared’s and reaching for the waistband of his lover’s boxer-briefs once more. He glanced up at Jared to be sure that he was still alright before he began pulling them down from there lowered stance; since he’d already pulled them partway down before. He eased them the rest of the way down Jared’s hips and as his lover lifted his ass, pulled them down further, along his thighs. He continued to ease them down as he backed up along Jared’s body and once his lover was able to lift his mile long legs marginally, bent at the knee, he tugged them off Jared’s body, tossing them in the general direction of the laundry hamper. 

His lips curved into a wide, almost triumphant grin as he gazed down at Jared now that they’d managed to get past that hurdle. 

“Looks like you’re okay,” he commented, though he eyed Jared’s reactions to his words closely in an attempt to gage whether or not he was right or if his lover had been secretly struggling with what he’d done. 

Jared nodded his agreement as he returned Jensen’s smile, “Yeah,” he murmured. “Wasn’t bad at all.” 

Jensen gave a soft chuckle as he leaned down over Jared, his hands flat against the mattress at either side of his lover’s body and slowly eased himself down, his hips against Jared’s and legs sliding down to tangle with his lover’s. Dipping his head, pressing his lips to Jared’s, kissing him slowly, softly, at first making them simple chaste kisses before gradually deepening them, tongue teasing at the seam of his lover’s lips before slipping past them and into Jared’s mouth. He sighed with contentment and passion as his tongue tangled with his lover’s and languidly mapped out Jared’s mouth, head sliding from side to side. 

Jensen gazed desirously into Jared’s eyes as he broke the hiss, both of them panting for breath and breathing in one another’s breaths. He allowed his hungry gaze to wonder down from Jared’s face, over the muscles and plans of his smoothly shaven chest to where their bodies were pressed together. Lifting his eyes back to Jared’s he rolled his hips purposefully, causing their cocks to slide alongside each other. 

“Jen,” Jared breathed wantonly, his head pressing back against the pillow as his own hips bucked upward, toward the friction that he desperately needed, wanted, _craved_. 

Dipping his head again, Jensen nipped at Jared’s jaw line, working his way back to his lover’s ear where he drew the tender flesh of Jared’s lobe into his mouth, suckling at it gently before releasing with a wet smacking pop. His hips rolled again, thrusting his dick alongside Jared’s, the pleasurable light friction of his hard dick dragging along his lover’s equally hard arousal drew a low guttural groan from deep in Jensen’s throat. 

Jared’s lips parted on a soft gasp as his eyes squeezed closed and own hips bucked, arms lifting to wrap possessively around Jensen. He moved one hand downward, sliding it along his lover’s body to Jensen’s ass where he cupped an ass cheek. Kneading the firmly muscled flesh wantonly, Jared used his hand there to urge Jensen on, cantering his own hips upward while pushing his lover’s down against him by the hand that cradled Jensen’s buttock. 

“More,” he encouraged breathlessly as he arched his long neck back and his fingertips dug lustfully into the tender flesh of Jensen’s ass and back. 

Dipping his head once more, Jensen teased at the long expanse of his lover’s neck, scraping his teeth across the tender flesh and nip-kissing his way along the long column of Jared’s throat before licking across the abused areas to take away the sting. 

Jared’s head turned, pressing his scarred cheek down against the pillow, offering more of his throat to Jensen’s mouth, his kisses and the pleasure-pain of each carefully placed rough bite. Soft moans and grunted groans mingled with broken pulses of hitched breaths broke from between Jared’s lips and his hips continued to roll beneath his lover’s, desperately seeking the friction that his throbbing cock hungered for. 

After sucking at a small area of his lover’s neck, hard enough to leave a small bruise behind, Jensen released the abused flesh and lifted his head, his breaths panting out from between his softly parted lips and fanning against Jared’s cheek as he gazed desirously down at his lover. He watched as Jared’s eyes slowly fluttered open, his own passion glazed eyes locking with Jensen’s. 

“Please, Jen, want you,” Jared whispered pleadingly. 

Jensen nodded his agreement and total understanding, his own cock hard and aching, pre-come pearling incessantly at the tip. Drawing his attention away from his lover’s blessed out features, Jensen lifted his gaze to the night stand and after shifting his weight and lifting his body up, his weight shifting to that one hand that he pressed firmly against the mattress next to Jared‘s body, he raised his other hand from the bed and reached for the drawer, pulling it open. Once inside his hand groped around blindly for a minute as he fumbled, attempting to locate what he was after. A moment later, his fingers curled around the familiar tube of lube that they kept in the drawer, causing a slightly victorious relief to wash through him as he withdrew his both his hand and the bottle from inside the drawer. Knocking it closed with the heel of his hand, he lowered his fisted hand back down to the mattress, still gripping the tube, and returned his attention back to his lover. A small and slightly joyous smile curved the corners of his lips upward as he dipped his head and pressed a brief and somewhat sloppy kiss to Jared’s lips as though in celebration of the fact that he had found their prized tube of lube. Pulling his head back a second later, his eyes never leaving his lover’s, he scurried down the length of Jared’s long body, and carefully shifted onto his knees between his lover’s spread legs. 

Tearing his gaze away from Jared, Jensen focused on the tube that he held in his hand, popping the cap with his thumb before tilting the tube and squeezing out a good amount into his palm. Flipping the cap closed, he lifted his gaze to Jared’s as he allowed the tube to slip from his grasp and fall on the mattress nearby. His lips quirked upward at the corners in a lascivious smirk as he allowed his gaze to roam over his lover’s body sprawled out and ready for him. 

“God, Jare,” he breathed desirously. 

Curling his fingers of his lube wetted hand he smeared the slick liquid around on his fingers before tearing his gaze from Jared’s body and lowering it as well as his hand to his lover’s groin, his clean hand wrapped around Jared’s dick while his lubed one moved lower, his slick fingertips teasing at the puckered skin of his lover’s hole. 

At the touch of Jensen’s hand wrapping firmly around his over sensitized dick, Jared gasped in a breath and his head pushed back against the pillows, neck arching back as his eyes squeezed closed and his hips bucked causing his hard cock to bob slightly where it stood proudly erect, jutting upward toward his stomach. His breath left him in a rush at the touch of Jensen’s fingers to his hole and his eyes popped open wide, head lifting from the pillow marginally as he looked down the length of his body before allowing his head to fall back, his eyes closing once more on a long low groan. 

“Oh God, Jen,” he groaned breathlessly. 

Jensen’s eyes darted up to meet Jared’s briefly, heat infusing his system at the unabashed look of desire on his lover’s face, the glazed quality of his eyes with their lust blown pupils. He caught his full bottom lip between his teeth and sucked it into his mouth to try and stifle the groan that was lodged in his throat. 

Tearing his eyes away from Jared’s features, he lowered his attention once more to what he was doing, releasing his lip and blowing out a hot breath in the process. He drew in a breath afterward and concentrated on stroking his hand along the length of his lover’s dick while tapping teasingly at the puckered skin of Jared’s hole while combining all that with teasingly pushing the pad of his finger in just enough to causing his lover’s ass muscles to quiver. 

“Oh shit,” Jared groaned again as his head rolled to the side, his eyes squeezing closed. 

His chest rose and fell heavily with each softly panted breath that he took and his neck arched back desirously a moment later as his hands fisted the sheets beneath him. “Please, baby,” he breathed. 

Jensen’s gaze darted back up toward Jared’s face and he groaned at what he saw, his cock twitching in response as heat shot through his veins only to make a beeline due south, causing more pre-come to ooze from the tip. Squeezed his eyes closed on a low wanton moan, he once again caught his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to stifle any further sounds from falling from between his lips. Bowing his head, he slowly opened his eyes and released his lip, once again blowing out a soft breath as he turned his full attention back to the business at hand, no pun intended. 

He moved his fisted hand along the length of Jared’s cock slightly faster as he pushed the tip of his finger in past the first ring of muscle inside his lover’s ass. 

Jared gasped in an audible breath before a long low groan broke from his throat, his head rolling the opposite direction against the pillow. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth as a low soft whimper broke from his throat and his cock pulsed, causing pre-come to ooze down the side of the head. 

His lip slipped free from between his teeth on the next intake of breath and he groaned as he exhaled before sucking in yet another audible breath as he felt Jensen‘s finger pivot inside him. 

“Oh God, oh God…” he cried breathlessly. 

Jensen lifted his gaze to Jared’s pleasure-pain filled features as he slid his finger in further, past the second ring of muscle and as he leaned over his lover and dipped his head, kissing along the long column of Jared’s throat, he pushed it further still until his finger was lodged deep, up to the third knuckle, within the tight warm vise of his lover’s ass. 

Jared’s back and neck arched as he clenched his teeth and his muscles tensed enough to cause the tendon in his neck to protrude. His face flushed a deep shade of crimson as a whining groan ripping from his throat at the invasion after having gone so long without. 

“Shhh,” Jensen soothed against the sensitive skin of Jared’s throat between kisses, “It’s okay, baby.” 

“God, ya feel so good, Jare,” he cooed as he pulled his finger back marginally then pushed it deep once more. 

Jared forced one of his hands to release the sheets and lifted it to grasp at Jensen‘s side, his fingertips biting into the tender flesh as his head thrashed before titling back on a whimpered groan. 

“Jen,” he cried out, “Jen, oh God…” 

The urgent and distressed sound of Jared’s voice was enough to cause Jensen to lift his head, brow creased with concern. When he saw the way his lover’s bottom lip was now quivering, he quickly released Jared’s dick and withdrew his finger, both hands lifting to worriedly frame Jared’s face as he gazed down at him with wide fearful eyes. 

“What’s the matter?” he inquired anxiously, “Baby, what is it, what’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry, oh God, Jen, I’m sorry,” Jared rambled, his eyes still squeezed tightly closed as tears caused his long thick dark lashes to cling together. 

“Jared, open your eyes,” Jensen directed firmly. “What is it, what happened? Did I hurt you?” he asked in rapid fire, frantically worried, succession. 

Jared’s eyes cracked open to mere slits, his misery easy to see both on his face and in the depths of his cat-like eyes. 

“Jare, please, talk to me,” Jensen pressed, nearly shaking his lover. 

Jared shook his head marginally, as much as Jensen’s hands cradling his face would allow, “Don’t make me say it, please don’t make me tell you,” he begged brokenly. 

He stifled the sob that burned at the back of his throat, mortified that he had suddenly become so utterly terrified when Jensen’s finger had penetrated him so deeply. He hadn’t known what to do, the irrational fear that he was no longer with Jensen but back in that cellar with a depraved mad man, nearly crippling him, making him unable to move or speak despite the fact that the light was on and he could _see_ his lover’s face. 

Jensen searched Jared’s features, his brow knitted with confusion, concern and even slight panic at whatever it was, whatever had happened that he had been totally unaware of that had suddenly reduced his lover from the way he’d been only moments before to this broken and trembling man in his arms. 

“Jare, come on, tell me, please” he implored with a slow bewildered shake of his head. 

Jared squeezed his eyes closed and gulped in ragged breaths as he tried to force the words past his lips. He knew that Jensen deserved to know the truth so that the look of heart wrenching fear and concern would be gone from the depths of his eyes, eyes that searched his with such love and compassion that it made Jared‘s heart ache. At long last, he nodded to Jensen as he continued to gulp in air, nearly hyperventilating with his struggles to calm himself before he spoke. 

“I just…” he breathed before pressing his lips together once more, nostrils flaring with his shaking breaths. “I just… I couldn’t touch you…and it felt like….” 

Jensen incredulously searched Jared’s face, “Couldn’t touch me? Jared, my finger was in your ass, how much more touching do you need?” he asked in disbelief. 

Jared turned his head away despite how Jensen had been holding his face in his hands before that. He squeezed his eyes closed against the stupidity of how it sounded when spoken aloud. “I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly. 

Jensen released a breath, feeling like he’d just been a total ass and sighed heavily. “No, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” he corrected. 

“Why don’t we just call it a night?” he suggested as he slowly withdrew his hands from Jared’s face. 

Pulling back slightly from how he had been hovering nearly in Jared‘s face, he pressed his hands, now curled into fists, against the mattress, bracing his weight against them as he held himself up on both them and his knees. 

Jared turned his head back and shook it slowly, “No,” he retorted, the word a little more than a whimper. “I wanna do this with you. I _need_ it. I need _you_ , Jen,” he argued desperately. 

Jensen allowed his head to hang between his shoulder blades as he sighed heavily with indecision. He knew that Jared was adamant about this but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was really what Jared needed or not. He also could see his lover insisting merely out of the stupid irrational fear that he was going to go hop into bed with Misha. That thought nearly had his eyes rolling with how ridiculous it was. Seriously, it was more than the fact that he just wouldn’t _do_ something like that, he was brought up better than that, he just simply _could not_ be lovers with Misha, there was no way. For one thing, he was almost certain that the guy would be kinky as hell, and while he wasn’t a prude by any means he was pretty sure that he would not be into the same things as someone as wild and free, the man made hippies seem like uptight conservatives by comparison, as Misha Collins. 

Lifting his head he locked gazes with Jared for a long moment as though he were searching for the truth within the kaleidoscope of colors in his lover’s eyes. 

“You _know_ that whether we do anything or not that I would never leave you. Never cheat on you and Danni with Misha, right?” he inquired with a pointed lift of his brows. 

Jared swallowed hard, knowing what answer Jensen was looking for, so that was the one he gave him, despite his concerns to the contrary. “Yes,” he whispered with a nod. 

Jensen nodded, “Alright,” he allowed softly with yet another heavy sigh and a nod of his own. 

Pulling up onto just his knees between Jared’s spread legs he lifted his brows once more in question, “So, how do you want to do this? What do you need me to do?” 

Jared shook his head, unsure just what to tell Jensen. He’d been fine until the moment he’d closed his eyes when his lover had pressed his finger in so deep and even then he had been alright in that very moment, it had been after that, when his mind had begun to play tricks on him. His tongue darted out, licking nervously across his lips as he gazed up at Jensen. 

“Just,” he paused briefly and reached for Jensen’s hand, “hold my hand.” 

Jensen’s brows rose skeptically, “Just hold your hand?” he echoed with disbelief, uncertain of what exactly holding his lover’s hand was going to do when he’d been as close to Jared as he could get before, or at least he had thought so, and it hadn’t helped matters much. 

He sucked his plump bottom lip into his mouth thoughtfully before allowing it to slip free as he gave a nod and threaded his fingers of one hand together with Jared’s, “Okay,” he allowed gently. 

Swallowing somewhat hard, his mind buzzing with questions of what to do now and how far Jared wanted to go, what he was comfortable with nearly making his head hurt as he lowered his gaze to Jared’s still semi-erect cock. He wrapped his free hand around it and began to stroke his fisted hand along his lover’s length as he lifted his gaze back to Jared’s features, the unspoken question, ‘ _is this okay_ ’ nearly as plain as day written across his own face. 

Despite the lack of a response from Jared, his reactions to what he was doing were answer enough as Jared’s head rolled to one side, his eyes drifting closed on a low moan. His hips slowly bucked and rolled in rhythm to each stroke of Jensen’s hand along his dick and his breaths quickened slightly, his chest rising and falling heavily with each panted breath as his lips parted and his neck arched in pleasure. 

The corner of Jensen’s lips twitched upward and he released a breath of relief at the sight before lowering his attention to what he was doing. After a few more strokes, he dipped his head and captured the head of his lover’s dick between his lips, sucking it into his mouth hard enough to cause his cheeks to hollow out. 

Jared nearly came off the bed in response to the drastic stimulation on the sensitive head of his dick, his eyes popped open, their hazel depths passion glazed once more and his pupils again blown wide. His head jerked up from the pillow only to crash back down as a long low guttural groan tore from deep in his throat. His hand holding Jensen’s tightened its grip hard enough that it caused Jensen to wince as he wiggled his fingers in an attempt to get Jared to ease up on the death grip he had on him. 

Jared head rolled back and forth on the pillow as grunted moans and groans tumbled from his lips, loud and numerous enough to make any porn star proud. 

“Oh God, Jen,” he breathed urgently, neck arching back once more as his hips bucked in an attempt to shove more of his length into the wet tight heat of his lover’s mouth. 

“Please,” he begged breathlessly as his head turned to the side in a jerky stuttered-like motion. “More, oh God, more…” 

Opening his lips wider, Jensen took more of his lover’s dick into his mouth, humming softly as he pulled his head back and then sank it down further than before while continuing to work his fist along the length of Jared’s shaft, allowing his hand to chase after the movement of his mouth. 

“Jesus, Jen,” Jared breathed as he turned his head back, glazed eyes opening briefly as he reached down with his free hand and cupped his lover’s cheek before slipping back, fingers tangling in the short soft hairs at his lover’s nape. 

Pulling his head back, Jensen allowed Jared’s cock to spring free from between his lips, resulting in Jared’s hand that had been at his nape to fall almost limply to the bed. He stroked his hand a few more times along his lover’s length before releasing it completely and reaching for the lube. His fingers were still somewhat tacky with the slick substance but he wasn’t sure that it would be enough especially after using it to stroke Jared’s dick. Using the thumb of his hand holding the lube he popped the cap again and tried to pull his opposite hand free from Jared’s though he found out quickly that that idea was not going to happen. Giving up he gripped Jared’s hand tightly with his own while allowing the tube to swivel around in his hand so that it was facing downward over his palm then squeezed the tube with his fingers that held it effectively squeezing more of the lube out onto his palm. Working the tube straight again, he snapped the lid closed and allowed the tube to fall carelessly to the bed with a dull thud. 

Jared’s eyes slid open when he felt his cock fall from the wet warmth of Jensen’s mouth just before his lover released his hold on his dick. A soft whimper left him despite how hard he had tried to hold it in when Jensen tried to pull his hand away and he actually tightened his grip on his lover‘s hand in response, unable to let go, a sense of panic nearly choking him at the very idea. Lifting his head up off the pillows to see what was going on, Jared gazed down the length of his body at Jensen, watching as his lover deftly turned the tube around in his hand and began squeezing some of the slick liquid out into his palm. 

Jensen glanced up at Jared, their eyes meeting as he lowered his hand, he paused and his brows lifted with uncertainty. 

Catching his bottom lip between his teeth, Jared nodded encouragingly to his lover before allowing his head to fall back against the pillows, rolling it desirously against the pillow. 

His hips bucked up wantonly, cock twitching in lustful response to the images that played in his mind, knowing full well just what exactly what was coming next. 

“Yeah, baby, please…” he murmured breathlessly. 

With Jared’s blessing, Jensen swirled his lubed finger around the tightly puckered skin of his lover’s hole, teasing at the rim before tapping at Jared’s hole, pressing the pad of his finger a little harder with each soft tap. His gaze flickered upward when he noted the way Jared’s hips cantered upward and the long low moan that tore from his lover’s throat. With an almost smug smirk tugging at one corner of his lip, he returned his attention to what he was doing and slowly pressed his index finger in past the first ring of muscle, feeling Jared’s inner muscles clench around the single invading digit before releasing and allowing him to push in further. 

Jared neck arched back as his hips bucked upward and he pushed back against Jensen’s invading finger. “Oh God, Jen,” he breathed wantonly. 

His hand tightened its grip on Jensen’s as his head rolled desirously against the pillow and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head, long dark lashes fluttering. 

Jensen glanced up at Jared as he pulled his finger back and then pressed it deeper, just as he had previously, burying the single digit up to the third knuckle. Lowering his gaze back down to what he was doing, he watched his finger slid in and out of Jared’s tight hole, the muscles inside clenching and releasing in such a way that it seemed almost as though his lover’s body was sucking greedily at his finger each time he began to slide it back inside. 

After finger fucking his lover a few minutes longer with the single digit, Jensen added a second on the next thrust inside, causing Jared’s back to bow and a long low strangled cry of pleasure to tumble from between his lips. 

Scissoring his fingers, Jensen tried again to ease his fingers from Jared’s but to no avail. He gave up the notion with an inward sigh. It wasn’t that he minded, it was just a little hard to maneuver and do everything he had planned one handed. He pushed his fingers in deeper and sought out his lover’s prostate, trapping the small gland between his fingers. 

When he began stroking the small bundle of nerves between his fingers much like the way he’s be stroking Jared’s cock right now if he had a free hand, his eyes wound up snapping upward to look at his lover to make sure he was alright when he heard something thud loudly followed by a series of loud moans and grunts and groans. 

Jared’s eyes shot open wide and his vision nearly whitened out at the pleasurable warmth that shot straight to his cock and had it twitching and pulsing. His back arched and his free hand lifted, smacking into the headboard which he held a second later in a white knuckled grip as Jensen began to stroke his prostate. His mouth fell slack as grunts and groans, moans and soft mewls broke from his throat. His neck arched and his head tilted back at a severe angle, barring the long column of his throat as he writhed against the bed. 

The fact that he was in love with the big lug aside, the years he’d spent playing Dean Winchester, Sam’s older and protective brother were what had caused Jensen to quickly look up in the first place to check on his lover. A small smirk of amusement curved the corner of Jensen’s lips as he lowered his attention back to the movement of his fingers once he’d realized that it was just Jared’s sex sounds that he’d heard, not to be confused with, although very much like, the sounds that Jared made as Sam while Sam was being choked by whatever baddie of the month they were fighting. He couldn’t count the number of times they’d be there on set during a fight scene only to have Jared’s rather obvious sex sounds wind up causing him to snicker and have to hide his face as he stood there in the background or the number of times he hadn’t been able to stop himself from inquiring sardonically if Jared was having a good time over there. He also couldn’t rightly state the number of times that those same sounds had caused the rest of the cast and crew, including whatever baddie they were supposed to be facing, to wind up doubled over with laughter. 

Jensen clenched his teeth when Jared’s hand nearly crushed his and he was certain that his fingers were going to be sore in the morning if not bruised and a soft cuss word broke past his lips, oddly enough, it was Dean’s favorite one.

“Wha’? Wha’s a matter?” Jared inquired breathlessly through the passion haze clouding his brain. 

“N-nothin’ baby,” Jensen answered soothingly. 

“S’feel good?” he asked, already knowing the answer as he lifted his gaze and watched Jared’s hard cock bounce with each thrust of his lover’s hips. 

Jared nodded mutely as his head rolled desirously against the pillow, “Oh God, yeah…” he breathed, his words followed by a soft whimper as he pressed his lips together in a tight thin line. 

His eyes squeezed closed and his muscles tensed, his toes pointing and heels digging into the soft mattress beneath him. “Oh God, Jen, Oh God…” he breathed in a rush. 

“Come for me, baby,” Jensen encouraged, watching Jared’s face, his own cock twitching in response to his lover’s blissed out features; his face flushed, a sheen of sweat coating his body and causing his skin to shine and shimmer in the lamp light. 

Jared pushed back against Jensen’s fingers and his hips thrust upward against the air a couple more times before he groaned loudly and the first rope of cum shot from this cock followed immediately by another and another, each one painting lines across his lover’s abs while droplets of it dotted the chestnut hued patch of wiry hair framing Jared’s dick. 

“Oh God, oh God,” Jared panted as his orgasm slowly began to subside. 

He drew in a breath through his nose as he pressed his lips together and swallowed hard before opening his still glazed eyes. Lifting his head marginally from the pillow, he looked down at Jensen briefly before allowing his head to fall back once more, rolling it against the pillow as he closed his eyes. 

Jensen slowly withdrew his fingers and gave his hand a gentle tug, grateful when this time, Jared released his death grip he’d had on it and allowed Jensen to pull his hand free.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured softly as he ran his clean hand up and down Jared’s side soothingly. 

Jared’s eyes cracked open, looking down the length of his body at his lover and nodded. 

Climbing from the bed, Jensen headed into the adjoining bathroom, the powder blue of the walls and the nautical decorations seeming even more lifelike with the lamp light barely lighting the interior. Stepping up to the sink he washed his hands and grabbed one of the folded ocean blue washcloths from the designer rack nearby, wetting it with warm water before adding some of the cucumber scented soap that Danneel had placed at the sink to once end. He sauntered back over to the bed and climbed in on his side. 

He turned toward Jared as he eased himself down in the bed and wiped the sweat from his lover’s face and neck with the end of the wash-rag that didn’t have soap before turning his attention to the stripes of cum decorating Jared’s abdomen, wiping them away with the soapy end, careful as he pass the cloth over the bandaged area of his lover’s incision. Once he had Jared clean, he turned away from him and tossed the washcloth toward the hamper. Turning back toward his lover after making a basket, he reached for Jared, tugging on him gently to get his lover to scoot closer. Once Jared had, he wrapped his arms around him as Jared laid his head down against his shoulder. 

“Mmm,” Jared hummed, “Always take good care‘a me,” he murmured with a grin.

“Better believe it,” Jensen muttered.

Jared sighed contentedly, “God, that was…” 

“Incredible?” Jensen supplied with a smirk. 

Lifting his head marginally, Jared looked up at Jensen a long moment before laying his head back down on his shoulder with a nod. “Yeah, but you don’t have to be so conceited about it.”

Jensen chuckled and turned his head, pressing a kiss against Jared’s sweat dampened hair. “Not conceited, just kinda _heard_ the good news,” he responded with a smirk. 

A blush stole over Jared’s face and down his neck as he burrowed closer and shifted to hide his face against the crook of Jensen’s neck which only caused Jensen to chuckle more.

The beams of numerous flashlights gave life to the otherwise dark house as officers made their way inside, continuing to search the place out after they had received that anonymous tip that two people were dead inside. So far they had found nothing, however pushing open the double doors leading into the kitchen; they spotted what appeared to be blood splatter against one wall and rivulets of it dripping down the front of the refrigerator.

It was a young deputy who found the bodies of a man who appeared to be dark haired and well muscled who’s prone form lay alongside a woman, her long dark auburn hair fanning out around her head like a bloodied halo. And it wasn’t the sight of how brutally murdered they’d been, throats slashed and chest cavities carved open wide, that had young Deputy Young hurrying back to Captain Newberry, but rather it was what he had found there with the bodies that had disturbed him far more than mere blood soaked corpses. 

“Sir, you’re gonna wanna take a look at this,” the young man said gravely. 

Captain Newberry huffed with exasperation and disgust already dreading whatever it was that the man had to show him. He gave a reluctant nod and jutted his chin in the direction that the young officer had come from. 

“Let’s see what’cha got, Jimmy,” he agreed. 

Jimmy Young lead Captain Newberry over to where most of the other officers had gathered, standing in a semi-circle around the two dead victims who lay sprawled in misshapen poses, like puppets whose strings had been severed. However it wasn’t the gruesome sight of the massacred bodies that held everyone’s attention captive, it was what was craved into the thigh muscle of the deceased young man, cut down before his prime. 

“Goddammit,” the Captain sighed, dreading what this could possibly mean. 

“You men wrap this up, I don’t want this shit hittin’ the papers, you got that?” 

His orders were followed by a chorus of, ‘Yes, Sir’s’. “You boys keep this under wraps,” he instructed. 

“I really don’t wanna wind up havin’ to call the BAU back in on this one,” he sighed, staring down at the name, a name he remembered far too well, emblazoned on the thigh of what had once been a successful young man, the jaggedly carved letters highlighted in blood. 

“Do you know who it is, the murderer, sir?” Deputy Young inquired gently. 

Captain Newberry huffed disgustedly as he lifted a hand and cupped it over his mouth, before allowing it to fall in a sweeping motion. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say we needed to put out an APB on a figgin’ ghost,” he scoffed.

Jensen reclined against the headboard as he held a book, something along the lines of The Fountain Head that he’d found in the drawer of Jared’s night stand, in his hands. The lamp next to him was still aglow, allowing him light to read by while Jared’s deep and even breathing served as white noise between the occasional rumbles of thunder mingled with the soothing sound of rain hitting the roof, all of which continued to be marked by indiscriminate brilliant bursts of lightening, each of which seemed to be less frequent than before and less intense as the storm slowly dissipated.

He glanced away from the page of the book, that he’d read over three times now and still had no idea what it said, to the alarm clock noting the hour for the umpteen millionth time now, ever since Jared had passed out with his head still pillowed somewhat against his shoulder, as he awaited for Danneel to come home. He tried not to worry, telling himself that she and Elizabeth had probably just got involved in shopping and had forgotten the time. That, mixed with dinner and the two of them could very well be out to the wee hours of the morning, which it was getting close to being now. 

“Come on Elta, where the hell are you?” Jensen mumbled half under his breath, soft enough not to disturb Jared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared has been out of the hospital for six weeks and life at Jensen and Danneel’s place is pretty good. Supernatural has gone on without him, as per his request, but Jared still receives fan mail nearly every day. Danneel continues to spoil the hell out of him and what she doesn’t do, Jensen rushes in, when he isn’t on set, and takes care of. Together they’ve managed to give Jared a place where he can feel safe and loved and cared for while he continues to heal and grow stronger both physically as well as emotionally. All things considered, things seems to be going pretty well for Jared Padalecki. That is until a death threat inscribed into the flesh of a murder victim directs the police right back to Jared’s doorstep. It’s then that Agent Hotchner and his team are called back to the City of Angels, where once again they must hunt down a mad man before it’s too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Criminal Minds crossover with the “Supernatural brat pack”. It is a sequel to the fiction entitled **Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder**. A special thanks goes out once again to Jeff Davis for the creation of Criminal Minds, the set up and some of the words used within this fiction. A special thanks also goes out The Mark Gordon Company and CBS Television/ABC Studios. 
> 
> **Please note:** The author has taken liberties with some of the “facts” herein. Also, pleased be advised that included within this chapter are pictures/images that I created myself as well as tiggeratl1’s banner and grave stone divider.

_"All is a riddle, and the key to a riddle...is another riddle."_ ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

Head down and cringing against the downpour of rain despite the umbrella which offered little shelter against the harsh weather, though it was a blessing that it at least was no longer coming down in bucketfuls the way it had been earlier. Darkness seemed to reign supreme despite the front porch light as no moon was visible behind the thick dark clouds. Hand trembling as it reached out, the screen door was pulled opened before the key, wet with rain drops, was slid into the lock and the deadbolt was turned back. With a sigh of relief, Danneel pushed the door of her home open and, pushing the umbrella in ahead of herself, rushed inside, almost slamming the door closed in her anxiousness to be out of the miserable weather. She shook out the umbrella with a tsk as it dripped all over the tile in the entry way before she could slip it into the umbrella stand. Shaking off the wetness that had her long hair matted to her head and had plastered her silk shirt to her skin, she turned back toward the door, throwing the dead bold before adding the safety chain and turning off the porch light. She turned back and headed for the stairs intent on getting out of her wet clothes and into some dry warm pajamas. 

Behind her another flash of lightening illuminated not only the sky but the outside area revealing the hooded figure that stood just outside the door peering in one of the long windows at either side of it.

Jensen’s eyes snapped open wider hearing the door open and close. “Da-” he called out as he lurched forward in the bed intending to get to his feet and check on his wife, only to stop immediately at the heavy weight that moved with him and he turned his head toward Jared’s sleeping form as if just remembering that his lover was there. He pressed his lips together with indecision and his head turned, his attention going back to the cracked open bedroom door. With a sigh of resignation at the fact that moving would be a bad idea due to it assuredly waking up Jared, he settled back against the pillows again and decided to wait for Danneel to come into the bedroom.

Hurrying up the stairs, Danneel made her way into the bedroom and turned on a small lamp that sat on the corner of her dresser, not needing more than that right now, and began to strip as continued she through the room and into the master bath, dropping clothes as she went, starting at the bedroom door as she‘d turned on the light. Her shirt was the first to go, making a disgusted sound in her throat as she peeled the soaked, clingy garment off and dropped it onto the thick rug. Next, she kicked off her heels as she passed the bed before she lowered her hands to the front of her jeans and began to unfasten the button and lower the zipper. She slipped them down her hips and pushed them past her thighs as she bent at the waist once she stood in the ivory, cream and gold accented backroom with its mirrored brown tiles. She pushed her jeans down her legs and stepped out of them, snatching the denim up and tossing it toward the hamper almost disgustedly before turning and grabbing a towel off the shelf next to the shower, using it to dry her hair as well as her arms and chest, sopping up rain droplets from her skin. Once she was dry, she turned and headed back into the bedroom clad in only her bra and panties. Tossing the towel into the hamper, she started for the dresser only to scream as the lightening flashed again and she could have sworn that she’d seen a figure outside the sliding glass doors in her and Jensen’s bedroom that led out onto their private balcony. 

She rushed over to the bed and snagged the comforter up in her hands, using it to cover her nakedness as she stared fearfully at the glass doors, willing the lightening to illuminate the outside again so that she could be sure of what she thought she had seen. Her heart pounded fearfully in her chest as she tried to remind herself that the sick sonofabitch that had murdered Genevieve was dead, that she couldn’t have seen a hooded figure looking in on her from their balcony. The next crack of thunder proved to alleviate her fears as the balcony seemed as empty of life as ever save for the small plants that she had sitting out on rot iron stands near the matching table and chair set that served as a lovely area to sit and relax on the more temped weather days. She laughed at her own stupidity as she shook her head at herself and released the tight grip she had held on the comforter. 

“Danni you’re losin’ it, girl,” she mumbled to herself half under her breath as she turned once more and crossed over to her dresser. 

Reaching for the draw with one hand she pulled it open and withdrew a pair of powder blue pajama’s, cozy ones with fur pants and a fuzzy long sleeved top depicting a sleepy bear in his pajamas holding an old fashioned candle as he stood next to his bed and beneath that in fancy script were the words ‘ _Beddy teddy_ ’. 

She walked back to the bed and dropped her pajamas on top of it then reached back behind herself and unfastened the hooks of her bra, tossing it across the room, into the hamper. She reached for the shirt first, pulling it on with a contented happy smile pulling at her lips and sighing softly at how much better she already felt. Once she had the shirt pulled down her torso she reached for the pants and pulled them on, one leg at a time up to her waist, covering their gathered waistband with the hem of their shirt. Walking back around the bed, she went back into the bathroom and flipped on the light before grabbing up her brush, running it through the damp snarls in her hair before twisting its length as she laid the brush back down on the counter and grabbed one of the multiple and multicolored clips that she kept in a small tin in one corner of the counter, using it to secure her long hair in a messy sort of bun. Satisfied that she had the rather stringy damp mess pulled up and out of her way as well as off the back of her neck, she turned and flicked off the light on her way out of the bathroom, continuing through the bedroom and down the stairs.

Since hearing the door, Jensen sat with his focus zeroed in on the door, anxiously awaiting her to come into the room; willing her to do so quickly so that he could see for himself that she was alright, that nothing had happened. He told himself that if something had she definitely wouldn’t be up stairs in the bedroom fiddling around, doing God only knew what, but that didn’t seem to help alleviate his anxiety. He glanced again at Jared, wishing that his lover would roll away from him so that he could ease from the bed himself and simply go check on her, the anticipation of waiting for her to get around to coming into the room where he was at was killing him. When he heard her on the stairs, his heart nearly skipped a beat and he sat up a little straighter, his gaze boring holes in the door , almost literally, as he anticipated the moment that it would swing open and she would be standing there, perfectly fine, with a wide smile curving her naturally mauve tinted lips. 

Silence followed, for so long Jensen was seriously about to bolt from the bed in search of his wife, or whoever it was that was in the house and not worry whether or not he woke Jared up in the process. He was just started to shift in that direction when the door to Jared’s bedroom opened and Danneel stepped inside the room and headed directly for the bed, a welcoming smile curving her lips just as he’d imagined. 

Jensen released an audible sigh of relief as he leaned back once more against the headboard and watched her cross the room over to him. The mattress sagged slightly as she took a seat on its edge next to him and leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. One that started out chaste and slowly turned into something more as her tongue darted out and teased at the seam of his lips. Jensen’s lips parted and he caught her tongue between them, sucking it into his mouth before tangling his own with it. They kissed for a long moment before she finally pulled her head back, a slightly surprised and pleased smile curving her lips. 

“Wow, if that’s what happens, lemme be late comin’ home again,” she whispered teasingly. 

Jensen shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line, “I was worried about you,” he murmured softly. 

Danneel leaned in, her forehead against his, “I’m sorry, baby, Elizabeth and I were shopping and lost track of time, then we went to grab a bite to eat and this storm rolled in,” she explained softly. “I was trying to wait it out but when it seemed like it was gonna be here for the night, I went ahead and came home.” 

“Everything’s okay then?” he inquired tentatively. 

Danneel nodded as her eyes searched his, “Why wouldn’t it be?” 

Jensen shook his head before lifting the book from his lap, his head turning toward the night stand as he placed the book on it before looking back at her and wrapping his arms around her waist. 

“I dunno,” he admitted with a scoffing harsh laugh, “I guess I thought…” _I thought that the ghost of the sick bastard who’d gotten Jared had gotten you._ “I dunno,” he said again, “Guess maybe I’ve been playin’ Dean Winchester too long I guess,” he allowed with a slight shrug. 

“That and the storm,” he added. 

And as if to accentuate his point another flash of lightening lit the sky, followed by the rumble of thunder. 

Danneel sighed and pressed her lips to his again. “I’m sorry I worried you. I was going to call but the cell was running low, I only had two bars left,” she responded softly. 

Jensen nodded, he had always told her that if the cell was running low to save what little battery life it had left in case of an emergency rather than calling him and using it up, of course that had been _before_ all the horrors that had taken place within the last couple of months. 

“It’s okay,” he allowed gently. “Just glad you’re home,” he whispered, lifting a hand from her waist and using it to sweep back a tendril of hair from her face that had fallen out of her messy clipped bun. 

Danneel’s gaze slid to Jared briefly noting the small amount of white bandage peeking out from beneath the sheets before returning her gaze to Jensen, “How’s he doin’?” she inquired, “How’d the doctor visit go?” She shook her head, brow creased, “Somethin’ wrong with the incision?” 

“Hmmmm?” Jensen hummed; turning his head to look over at Jared, his eyes sweeping over his lover’s sleeping form before returning his attention to his wife as he shook his head. “Nah, he got the stitches out and the end of it there bled so doctor Moy put the bandage on that area. We were supposed to change the bandage tonight but he crashed right after….” he allowed his words to trail off. 

Danneel smirk softly, “So you wore him out, huh?” she teased. 

Scoffing, Jensen shook his head, “ _He_ had a good time, _I_ got blue balls.” 

Laughing, Danneel wrapped her husband up in her arms, “Aw, my poor baby,” she teasingly soothed. 

“Oh sure, laugh it up,” he grumbled. 

His gaze turned serious and regretful as she pulled back from the hug, sitting up straight once more. 

“Speakin’ of that,” Jensen began. He moved his hand that fallen to her lap after pushing her hair back, lifting it, and reached for her hand where it now lay on his shoulder. Grasping her hand, he gently held it within his own and brought it to his lips, brushing a soft tender kiss across her knuckles. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in our room since I came back. I will tomorrow night, I promise,” he murmured gently. 

Danneel shook his head, “Uh-uh,” she retorted gently. 

Jensen’s eyes widened slightly at that and his lips parted about to speak only to have her cut him off as she continued. 

“Don’t make promises to me that you can’t keep,” she murmured. “Wait and see how he is,” she said with a nod toward Jared’s sleeping form, “And we’ll go from there,” she reasoned. 

Jensen nodded mutely as his eyes searched hers adoringly, “I love you,” he whispered. 

“Love you too,” he responded softly, a warm smile curving her lips as she searched his eyes in turn. 

Tearing her gaze away from her husband, Danneel looked over at Jared with a fond smile gracing her lips, her gaze roaming over his features for a long moment before she leaned across Jensen toward him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Her brow creased with worry as she pulled back and, easing her hand out of Jensen’s, reached over and pressed it to Jared’s brow. 

“He’s warm,” she commented worriedly. 

“Danni, it’s Jared, he’s always warm,” Jensen responded flippantly before moving his hand to Jared’s forehead and checked it himself. 

He frowned thoughtfully, his brow furrowing as he pulled his hand away and met Danneel’s gaze, “A little I guess,” he agreed. 

“You think his incision might be infected?” Danneel inquired. 

Jensen shook his head, “Nah, but I’ll keep an eye on him tonight, if he gets any warmer we’ll call the doc,” he replied. 

Danneel nodded, “Okay,” she allowed, offering Jensen a loving smile. “I should probably go get in bed.” 

“You and beddy teddy, huh?” Jensen responded with a smirk as he glanced at the words emblazoned on the front of her shirt. 

Danneel nodded, “Yeah, just me and beddy teddy,” she sighed longingly before giving a soft chuckle. 

“Did you lock the door?” Jensen inquired. 

“Yeah,” she responded automatically. 

“Sure?” 

Danneel stared at him a long moment before sighing heavily in resignation. “I’ll go make sure,” she promised. 

Chuckling softly, Jensen nodded, “Okay.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips once more before she pulled from the bed and started for the door. His eyes were glued to her backside and a smile, both lewd and loving, graced his lips as he watched her hips sway as she crossed the room to the door. 

Grasping the door handle as she reached it, she started to pull the door closed and paused, turning toward the side of the door and leaning against it as she looked back at Jensen with a smirk. 

“My ass is on fire ya know?” she commented, knowing full well without having to see that he’d been watching her walk. 

Jensen’s lips curved into a wide lascivious grin, “Better not be, it’s too nice of an ass to see it go to waste,” he commented. 

Danneel rolled her eyes and turned back around to leave, pulling the door closed with her. 

“Danni,” Jensen called softly. 

When she paused he called out again, his voice soft, “I love you.” 

Her lips curved into a wicked grin as she looked back over her shoulder and winked before pulling the door closed, disappearing on the other side of it. 

Jensen chuckled softly and glanced back over at Jared. He reached his hand out again and felt his lover’s forehead then his chest and stomach noting that he seemed to be just as hot all over. He’d definitely do as he’d told Danni, watch and see, but it was fairly sure that it was just Jared being the over heated sweat bucket that he was. Pulling his hand away he turned back to the night stand and reached over, clicking off the lamp before easing down further in the bed, his head against the pillows. Jared stirred just slightly, cuddling closer but other than that he seemed to have remained asleep. Closing his own eyes, Jensen released a contented breath and tried to find sleep himself.

Walking toward the door, Danneel’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened to the size of saucers as, with another flash of lightening illuminating the outside, her gaze landed on a shadow that looked a lot like the one she had seen through the sliding balcony doors upstairs. Someone in a hoodie was moving around on their porch, she was sure of it. 

“Oh God, oh God,” she breathed, voice trembling with fear as she turned around and hurried back into Jared’s bedroom and over to the bed. 

She shook Jensen vigorously in an attempt to wake him, not even realizing in her fear that he hadn’t had time to fall asleep yet. 

“Danni, what is it?” Jensen mumbled softly as he flung an arm out, reaching for the lamp switch. 

“No don’t turn that on, he’ll see you,” she hissed. 

“Who?” Jensen inquired. 

“The guy….” she began only to stop as her gaze darted past Jensen over to the darkened lump on the bed she knew to be Jared. 

“Come on,” she encouraged, tugging on his arm. “Just come out here with me and I’ll tell you.” 

Jensen’s brow creased with confusion, but he got up anyway knowing that whatever it was that was wrong it had Danneel spooked. He eased himself away from Jared, careful not to wake him, and swung his feet off the side of the bed, pulling to his feet. Before he could grab anything to put on Danneel was dragging him from the room and out into the small hallway. 

They finally stopped just outside Jared’s door and once Danneel had pulled the door closed she moved back to him, her gaze only then running down the length of his body. 

“You’re naked,” she said as though she’d never heard of someone being that way before.

“Yeah, it kinda helps with the whole sex thing,” Jensen quipped, his Dean Winchester obviously showing with his confusion. “Is that why we’re out here, so you can tell me that I’m naked?” 

Danneel scowled at him, “There’s someone at the door,” she hissed. 

“So did you answer it?” 

Danneel’s eyes widened and she stared at her husband like he’d lost his mind, “It’s three o’clock in the morning! No, I didn’t answer it,” she retorted. “Plus, he….he has a hoodie on,” she explained worriedly. “And I think I saw him on the balcony upstairs when I was up there.” 

Jensen’s jaw clenched and a muscle twitched in it as he stared at his wife. “Go upstairs and get my Louisville Slugger,” he directed. 

“What you’re gonna beat a homicidal maniac to death with a baseball bat, naked?” she asked incredulously. 

“Okay so grab my robe while you’re up there too,” Jensen responded with irritation. 

Danneel turned and hurried up the stairs, glancing down at the door from time to time as she went. 

Jensen watched her go and once she had disappeared around the corner, he fixed his gaze on the long windows at each side of their front door wishing like hell that they were bullet proof glass or at least shatter resistant. _And the realtor said those damn things would raise the market value,_ he thought sardonically with annoyance. 

His gaze lifted as he heard Danneel rushing back down the steps, a pink something in one hand and his baseball bat in the other. She handed him both of them as she stepped off the bottom step. 

“What the hell is that?” he demanded with a nod at the pink thing. And then he recognized it. “You brought me _your_ bathrobe?” he inquired incredulously. 

“I couldn’t find yours,” she reasoned with a shrug. 

A muscle in Jensen’s jaw twitched as he snatched the robe out of her hand and slipped it on, tying it closed in the front. If the color wasn’t bad enough, there were crocheted flowers along the lapel of the damn thing in bright hues of yellow, turquoise and a darker shade of pink. He huffed disgustedly and grabbed the bat from her hands. 

“Stay here,” he directed before starting to creep toward the door. 

Danneel didn’t respond, but as he started forward, so did she, creeping forward right along with him. 

Lightening flashed once again revealing the shadow that Danneel had seen, a hooded figure moving around on the porch with his head hung down low as he appeared to pace. The sight had Jensen’s eyes widening and his heart banging with fear in his chest. He glanced back at his wife briefly just as they reached the door. He wondered if he’d suddenly spoken a foreign language with how well Danneel had listened to him when he’d told her to stay where she was. 

Turning his attention back to the door, he eased the deadbolt back as quietly as he could then as he lifted the bat; he grabbed the door handle and slowly turned it. Once he had it turned as far as he needed to be able to open the door, he jerked it open wide just as another flash of lightening lit the sky and everything under it. 

Jensen, Danneel and the hooded figure screamed, the scream that came from under that hood however sounded oddly familiar and somewhat high pitched. 

Narrowing his eyes with accusatory suspicion, Jensen quickly flicked on the porch light to reveal Misha Collins standing on their front porch wearing a navy blue hoodie, his cell phone in his hands. 

“What the _hell_ are you doing?” Jensen insisted incredulously. 

“Well I _was_ twittering before you scared the crap outta me!” Misha responded. “Were you gonna hit me with that?” he said as his eyes flickered to the bat before shifting back to Jensen. 

“If he doesn’t, I might,” Danneel scoffed disgustedly. “You scared us half to death!” 

“Oh,” Misha cooed with an infuriating tilt of his head as he looked over at Danneel, a smile curving his full lips slightly at the corners. “Well, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“Then what the hell are you doing here at this hour?” Jensen inquired. 

Misha’s attention darted back to Jensen, “Oh, I wanted to check on Jared,” He explained simply, giving a slight shrug. 

“At three o’clock in the morning!?” Danneel inquired incredulously. 

Misha’s brows rose as he looked back at her, “Hm?” he hummed with innocent confusion before his brow creased, “It’s three in the morning?” he asked as though he had absolutely no idea. 

He looked down at his cell phone and pressed a couple buttons before frowning as he read the time. Lifting his head, his gaze darted between the two Ackles’, “Huh, I guess it is,” he allowed. 

His brow creased as he stared at Jensen and his lips curved into a slow devious smile. “Hold still,” he directed as he lifted his cell. 

A second later a bright flash of light in Jensen’s face nearly blinded him and had him squinting his eyes closed and blinking rapidly in an attempt to get rid himself of the red dots decorating his vision. 

“What the hell…?” Jensen growled. 

“Dude, you’re in a…. hell I don’t even know what to call that,” he responded as he allowed his gaze to travel the length of Jensen’s pale pink terry cloth robed body down to his bare knees, calves and feet before lifting his eyes once more to Jensen’s, an amused smile curving his lips. 

“It’s her bathrobe,” Jensen interrupted with a jerk of his head to the side toward Danneel. 

“I have a duty to my minions,” Misha concluded simply. 

Jensen lunged at Misha, arms raised and hands grappling for Misha’s cell phone. “Gimme that damn thing,” he growled. “Don’t you dare….” 

Danneel reached for Jensen trying to pull him back while Misha held his phone as far away as possible while continuing to tweet with his thumb and all the while struggling to block Jensen and fend off his advances. 

“Jensen!” Danneel scolded as she wrapped her arms around his middle and tugged him back. 

“I’m gonna kill him!” he vowed angrily while still struggling to grab Misha’s phone. 

“Oop, I sent it,” Misha announced with a satisfied smirk. 

Jensen drew back, chest heaving with each seething breath, “I hate you,” he huffed disgustedly, eyes narrowed into slits of irritated frustration. 

Misha giggled, “Nah, you love me,” he retorted. “Besides, the fans love the pictures I send them of you.”

“Like my eyeball?” Jensen grumbled. 

“Hey, they loved your eyeball,” Misha responded with a frown before his lips curled once more into a grin, “I love your eyeball too, come here, lemme kiss it,” he said as he leaned in and puckered up, his lips heading for Jensen’s eye. 

“Would you get off me,” spat a rather annoyed Jensen as he pushed Misha back, one hand, the one that still held the baseball bat, pressed against the center of Misha’s chest. 

Danneel sighed heavily in exasperation, “Will you two cut it out?” she scoffed, “You’re like a couple’a kids.” 

Misha chuckled as he pulled back which caused Jensen‘s arm to fall from where it‘d been pressed against him. “So, whatcha got on _under_ that robe? A teddy?” he inquired with a lewd waggle of his brows. 

Jensen glared, “I’m naked you ass!” 

Misha blinked and his brows rose, “Oh,” he murmured before lifting his cell phone again, “Well, open it up, I need take a picture of that too.” 

Jensen grit his teeth and he reached out with his free hand and grabbed the shoulder of Misha’s hoodie, “Get in here,” he growled as he yanked Misha into the house and all but slammed the door closed behind him. 

“The minions,” Misha grunted as he stumble stepped into the house, nearly tripping over his own feet with the way Jensen was pulling on him. 

Once he was inside, his head turned toward Jensen, watching as he shut the door and threw the deadbolt before turning his attention back to Misha. 

“Screw your damn minions,” Jensen answered at last. 

“They asked that and I said I couldn‘t,” Misha replied, interrupting the tangent that Jensen had been about to start, his words causing Jensen’s mouth to snap closed though he continued to scowl at him. “I mean, I’d like too but that would be very exhausting, time consuming, I do have a son to raise now, and unsanitary.” 

Jensen rolled his eyes and shook his head, “You really _are_ a whore,” he grumbled half under his breath. 

“I swear to God, twitter was the worst thing that ever happened to both Jared and _you_ ,” he huffed. 

Misha grinned wide before his head slowly tilted to one side, in an annoying parity of his onscreen persona, and his brow creased with curiosity. “So, exactly why did I scare you two?”

Jensen stared at Misha, his brow slowly knitted with annoyance. “Oh I dunno maybe it has something to do with you lurking outside our house at the wee hours of the morning,” he retorted testily. 

“That and…” Danneel added softly with a glance at her husband before returning her attention to Misha, “The hoodie…” 

Misha’s brow creased as he pensively looked between the two Ackles’, “What does my choice of jacket attire have to do with anything? You guys suddenly have something against hoodies?” he inquired before his lips curved into a grin, “Cause I gotta tell ya I doubt they’re gonna change Sam’s jacket of choice from that ugly ass hoodie…” 

Jensen exchanged a look with his wife as he huffed softly and lowered his gaze as he noted the questioning way Misha’s brow was furrowed once more. 

“It’s not that it’s… well with the maniac that held Jared wearing one…” 

Misha’s brows rose, “He’s dead,” he reasoned. 

“Yeah well…” Jensen muttered. 

Eyes widening somewhat with the realization of what Jensen was saying struck him and a chuckle broke from Misha’s throat as he shook his head. “You have definitely been playing Dean Winchester for too long,” he remarked. “Ghosts don’t really exist, least not like that.” 

Jensen scowled at Misha and scoffed softly. “Coffee?” he asked with a nod to his own words as he fought to change the subject. 

Misha shrugged, “Sure, okay,” he agreed. 

Danneel sighed and nearly rolled her eyes, “I’ll go start a pot,” she mumbled as she turned away from the two men and started into the kitchen.

“It’s unleaded,” Danneel warned as she carried two mugs over to the breakfast nook where Jensen and Misha sat. “Didn’t want either of you to end up staying up all night,” she explained as she carefully placed a mug in front of each of them. 

“Decaf sounds good to me,” Jensen allowed as he sat back a bit, pulling his arms away from the table top, his eyes tracking the movement of her hands and the mugs therein as she placed them onto the table. 

“You got cream and sugar?” Misha asked. 

“Yeah that’s all you need,” Jensen mumbled half under his breath. 

“What?” Misha inquired innocently. 

“Sugar,” Jensen responded, “Something to make you even more hyper,” he spat disgustedly. 

“And I thought Jared was bad,” he mumbled, the words once again spoken half under his breath. 

Misha only grinned wide in response to Jensen’s grumblings and turned his attention to Danneel as she silently crossed back over to the counter to retrieve her mug as well as the creamer and sugar that Misha had requested. 

Carrying it all back to the table, she placed the cream and sugar in front of Misha before taking a seat next to Jensen where she then lifted the rim of her mug to her lips and took a sip of the steaming hot brew. 

She felt better knowing that it had been someone as harmless as Misha that had been lurking outside the house tonight though the idea that he’d been on the balcony continued to gnaw at her and had her eyeing Misha speculatively over the rim of her mug as he doctored his coffee. If he had actually been up there on the balcony, why? And how did he get there? Sure there was a trellis that she had vines growing on but that would have taken a lot of effort on his part to climb and she hadn’t seen any trace of the leaves and he only appeared to be damp, not drenched like he should be if he had been on in the rain for any amount of time. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him about it but if he hadn’t been him and it had just been her imagination playing tricks on her, she definitely didn’t want to look like some kind of melodramatic female. She also didn’t want to worry Jensen over nothing if that indeed was what she was, an overly melodramatic woman who had stupidly went to the movies after shopping and dinner, in an attempt to wait out the storm; and rather than seeing some chick flick or something funny and upbeat had seen, due to it being all that was playing at the time, some slasher movie where the heroine had come in from the rain only to get her throat slashed by the serial killer waiting the shadows for her. 

Lowering her gaze, she took another sip of coffee in an attempt to shake the memory of the hoodie clad silhouette from her mind. 

“So,” Misha began once he had his coffee doctored, with more sugar than one human being rightly should need over the course of a lifetime in that one cup along with a pinch of creamer, just enough to say he added some.   
He lifted his gaze to Jensen’s rather nauseated features - since he’d been watching Misha add the multiple heaping spoonfuls of sugar to his mug of java - and lifted his brows. “How’s Jared doing?” 

Blinking as he tore his gaze away from Misha’s mug, he looked up into the man’s eyes and gave a shrug, “Alright I guess,” he allowed. 

Misha quirked a brow, “You guess?” he inquired. 

Jensen sat forward a little more, hands framing the bright orange ceramic mug that held his coffee. “Well yeah… He’s walking now, with a walker, like I told you on the phone. But things like tonight,” he murmured with a shake of his head. “He froze up,” he summarized. 

Misha glanced between Jensen and Danneel, “Oh you mean you’re…? Because you and Jared…?” he nodded to his own words. “Now I get the robe,” he allowed with a sage nod. 

Jensen rolled his eyes with a huff, “Anyway, we were… ya know…and he froze up. I had to hold his hand the whole time.” 

Misha shrugged a shoulder, “Nothin’ wrong with that…” 

“I was trying to open him up and give him a hand job, kinda hard to do both one handed,” Jensen interrupted. 

“Oh,” Misha muttered with another glance at Danneel. 

His lips curved into a charming smile as he turned his attention to Danneel, anyone who ever said that Dean Winchester has the best lady killer smile had never seen Misha’s. “So how are you doing?” he inquired, changing the subject. 

Danneel smirked, “I’m doin’ good baby, how you doin’?” she replied smoothly, using the line that Jennifer Aniston used on Joey Tribbiani in an episode of _Friends_ as she leaned forward, elbow bent on the table, her hand braced against the side of her neck and jaw line as she smiled flirtatiously. 

Misha’s smile slowly melted away and his gaze darted back to Jensen who was barely containing his laughter as he watched his wife dish out her own brand of sauciness in return. 

“She so got you,” he snickered. 

Misha frowned, “I just didn’t want to take her away from you,” he explained dismissively. “Sounds like you could use someone with a level head.” 

“Uh-huh,” Jensen mused in disbelief, his smile firmly fixed on his face as he nodded.

The threesome talked for a good hour and a half, laughing and joking about antics on set as well as things that West was up to these days and the fact that Misha was finding that he had to watch the crazy things he did since West was at the repeating everything said and done stage. Their mugs were empty and the pot was nearly drained by the time Misha stood to his feet and stretched with a yawn.

“I better get going before Vicky thinks I moved out,” he declared as he lowered his arms, that had rose and curled as he’d stretched, back to his sides with a weary sigh. 

Jensen nodded and found himself yawning too as he and Danneel stood along with Misha. “Yeah, I think we all need to get some sleep too,” he agreed. 

“You sure you’re okay to drive home?” Danneel asked as she eyed Misha with concern. 

Misha was checking the clock on his phone as he nodded without looking up, “Yeah, thanks, it’s not that far, I’ll be fine,” he assured before lifting his gaze. 

“Damn, it’s quarter to five,” he commented. “I’ll be lucky not to find my clothes in the front yard.”

Jensen and Danneel both chuckled softly as Misha started out of the kitchen and toward the front door with the Ackles’ following after him. 

As they paused at the door, Jensen reached out and turned the deadbolt before reaching for the handle and turning it, pulling open the door. 

“Come by later if you want and bring West and Vic, we can have a cook out or something’,” Jensen invited. 

Misha nodded, “I’ll run it by everyone and see what they think,” he promised before stepping out the door. 

“Good night,” Danneel called as she leaned against Jensen, one hand on her husband’s shoulder, the other wrapping around his waist. 

Misha turned and nodded as he lifted a hand and waved, “Night, guys,” he replied jovially. 

Jensen held the door open and watched as Misha made his way to the car. He continued to wait until Misha had slid in behind the wheel and closed the door before closing their front door, once more turning the lock. 

Danneel yawned, “I’m beat, I’m gonna head on upstairs.”

Jensen nodded, still watching Misha through one of the long windows next to the door. He glanced away for a second, turning his head toward his wife. “Okay, babe, good night,” he responded softly, a warm smile curving his lips. “I love you.” 

Danneel’s lips curved upward, “Love you too, don’t stay up much longer,” she replied, adding the last bit firmly. 

Jensen nodded as he looked back out the window, “I’m not, just wanna be sure he gets going alright,” he murmured, almost to himself. 

Danneel nodded and turned, heading to the foot of the stairs and up, her footfalls echoing in the absolute quiet of the house now that the storm seemed to have past. 

When the headlights of Misha’s car finally passed by the window as he pulled out, Jensen turned away from the door and headed back toward Jared’s bedroom; and in so doing, completely missed the dark silhouette hiding in the shadows underneath the dogwood tree. 

The mysterious figure watched Misha‘s car pull away before turning its attention back to the house, its gaze intent on the twin window to the one Jensen had been looking out, the likes of which the was filled with the image of the tree in question with its usual pink blossoms now bare of blooms, the leaves scattered in shades of brow and gold upon the grass; and beneath it, if anyone cared to look hard enough, the shadowy image of a man clad in a dark hoodie. The sinister figure watched Jensen turn away and head toward the stairs, only instead of taking them up to the bedroom that opened up onto the large elaborately designed balcony the way the red head had, he turned off, disappearing into a room near the base of the stairwell.

“There was a farmer had a dog and Bingo was his name-o, B-I-N-G-O,” the shadowed figure sang, a wickedly evil smirk curving his lips. “Hell-lo, Jared…”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared has been out of the hospital for six weeks and life at Jensen and Danneel’s place is pretty good. Supernatural has gone on without him, as per his request, but Jared still receives fan mail nearly every day. Danneel continues to spoil the hell out of him and what she doesn’t do, Jensen rushes in, when he isn’t on set, and takes care of. Together they’ve managed to give Jared a place where he can feel safe and loved and cared for while he continues to heal and grow stronger both physically as well as emotionally. All things considered, things seems to be going pretty well for Jared Padalecki. That is until a death threat inscribed into the flesh of a murder victim directs the police right back to Jared’s doorstep. It’s then that Agent Hotchner and his team are called back to the City of Angels, where once again they must hunt down a mad man before it’s too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Criminal Minds crossover with the “Supernatural brat pack”. It is a sequel to the fiction entitled **Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder**. A special thanks goes out once again to Jeff Davis for the creation of Criminal Minds, the set up and some of the words used within this fiction. A special thanks also goes out The Mark Gordon Company and CBS Television/ABC Studios. 
> 
> **Please note:** The author has taken liberties with some of the “facts” herein. Also, pleased be advised that included within this chapter are pictures/images that I created myself as well as tiggeratl1’s banner and grave stone divider.

_"Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world."_ ~ Albert Einstein. 

Jared stirred against his lover as the bright morning sunlight filtered in through the deep blue curtains of his bedroom. He squeezed his eyes tighter closed in an attempt to block it out as, unlike his television persona, he was not a morning person. He groaned softly as he stretched then rolled closer to Jensen, if that were possible, tossing an arm around his lover and snugging himself in close against Jensen’s side. 

When sleep seemed to still elude him, he sighed heavily with disgust at himself and lifted his head, cracking his eyes open to mere drowsy slits as he sought out the glowing red numbers of the alarm clock. His eyes popped open wide when he saw that it was noon, no wonder the rays of the sun shining in had seemed so bright. He lowered his eyes to his sleeping lover and an adoring smile teased at the corners of his lips. He started to say fuck it and lower his head back down to the pillow when something pink, coiled into a ball on the floor caught his attention, something that hadn’t been there last night. He paused the movement of his head downward and instead lifted it again, craning his neck to see past Jensen’s body and onto the floor. His brow creased curiously when he figured out that it was Danneel’s bathrobe that lay there carelessly discarded and yet, Jensen was here, in bed with him and there was no sign of Danneel anywhere. 

“Lay back down,” Jensen directed sleepily, his voice still rough with it. 

His lover’s words drew Jared’s attention from the discarded robe to Jensen’s features. “Where’d the robe come from?” he asked softly. 

“Huh, wha’?” Jensen inquired groggily, cracking open eye to gaze up at Jared, brow creased with slightly annoyed confusion. 

“The pink robe,” Jared explained. 

“Oh,” Jensen grunted as he turned toward Jared, wrapping an arm around Jared’s waist as he snuggled against the pillow beneath his head. “Misha was here,” he mumbled, sighing weary. 

Jared’s eyes popped open further and he felt the now familiar pang of jealously twist his in his gut and cause his chest to ache. His brow furrowed as his gaze from Jensen to the robe and back while he tried to think exactly what Misha could have been doing here in the middle of the night that would have Jensen not waking him. _Having sex with his new lover,_ a voice in his head taunted. _Something that you don’t have the balls to do anymore._

His throat convulsed as he swallowed hard and tried to fight back the melancholy feelings that tried to swamp him. “Misha?” he questioned, voice slightly hoarse. 

Jensen nodded though he didn’t open his eyes, his head moving against the pillow. “Mm-hm,” he confirmed. “He wanted a picture’a me naked,” he mumbled groggily, “But I wouldn’t let him.” 

Jared’s mouth fell open and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest as he stared down at his lover. “What - why did he see you naked?” he croaked. 

Jensen’s brow furrowed with confusion at the question since he thought that he had made it perfectly clear to begin with. He shook his head, which moved against the pillow, before his throat convulsed as he swallowed and his tongue darted out, licking across his lips. “Didn’t,” he muttered. “Said I didn’t let ’im take the picture.” 

He tugged Jared up against him and nuzzled his face against Jared’s shoulder, “Shhh,” he hushed, “Go back to sleep,” he instructed gently. 

Jared slowly lowered his head back down to the pillow like Jensen told him though sleep was the last thing on his mind. He searched his lovers face somewhat sadly, memorizing the way it looked in sleep for when the day came that Jensen told him that it was true, that he and Misha were in love and had been screwing around since the day he had become the ugly scarred mess that he was. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes and his chin quivered slightly at the thought of losing Jensen. 

“I love you,” he whispered hoarsely. 

“Mmmmm,” Jensen moaned softly, tightening his hold around Jared. “Love you too,” he murmured drowsily. “Sleep,” he added with a nod, head sliding against the soft pillowcase. “Misha had me up till five in the morning.” 

Jared’s breath caught in his throat and he squeezed his eyes closed, wet lashes clinging together slightly as he reopened them to gaze longingly at his lover while a tear slowly slid from the corner of his eye; the droplet taking a detour across the bridge of his nose before falling silently to the pillow beneath his head.

It was close to two-thirty when Jensen hurried down the stairs after taking his shower, clad in jeans and a light olive drab polo shirt with sneakers adorning his feet. Jared had been up and had showered and dressed in a pair of brown cargo Bermuda shorts and a tee advertising surfing in Australia that he’d been given at one of the overseas _Supernatural_ conventions, nearly an hour ago, about the same time that Danneel had rounding the top of the stairs from the bedroom wrapped in a towel, her hair still damp from her own shower. She had lingered downstairs long enough to grab a small bottle of orange juice and detour on her way back up the stairs to brush a kiss across Jared’s brow, both in greeting as well as checking him for fever. Satisfied that he didn’t feel as warm as he had the night before, she had continued past without a word and headed back up to dress. She now sat on the sofa with her legs curled up under her, sporting jeans shorts and a bright yellow tee that bore the age old question, ‘ _Where’s the beef_ ’.

“Is that what you’re wearing? Misha, Vic and West’ll be here soon,” Jensen asked as he stepped off the last stair and headed for the kitchen. 

It had been Misha phone call accepting the invitation that Jensen had extended last night that had awoken everyone, or at least Danneel and Jensen since Jared had never managed to get back to sleep. 

Danneel’s brows rose and she leisurely bowed her head, looking down at herself before lifting her gaze to Jensen’s retreating back just before he disappeared into the kitchen, “Um, am I supposed to put on a ball gown for steaks and hotdogs on the grill?” questioned Danneel sarcastically, her voice raised slightly so that Jensen would hear. 

“You’re the one that wants him to eat your wiener, not me,” she muttered half under her breath as Jensen walked past her, smirking up at him before flashing Jared, who sat across from her in the recliner, a mischievous grin. 

Jensen paused in mid-step and shot his wife a stern look, “Hey!” he spat. “Watch your mouth!” He scolded firmly, brows drawn into a deep frown before his lips twitched upward at the corners and he shot her a playful wink as he continued into the kitchen. 

“We need to take the steaks out,” he called as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. 

“Way a head of ya,” Danneel called back, her gaze flickering to Jared with a smirk. “While you were primping for your _other_ family, Jared and I got the steaks and hotdogs out to thaw.” 

Jensen poked his head around the corner and peered back at his wife and lover, his gaze darting between the two of them as a grin curved his lips upward. “You two are awesome,” he praised. 

Danneel chuckled, “Uh-huh, sure we are,” she teased with a wink. 

Jared however quickly lowered his eyes, averting his gaze, his heart secretly twisting in his chest. He did his best to hide his turmoil, offering Danneel faked smiles when she would look over at him and refusing to look Jensen in the eye when he came by or when he called to them from the kitchen. 

He hadn’t managed to fall back to sleep for a long while after Jensen had come back to bed after entertaining his late night guest; and he’d wound up only sleeping another couple of hours, when sleep _had_ finally come to him, before getting up. He still wasn’t dressed for the day yet; waiting like the doctor had said to take his shower until after lunchtime. He and Danneel had eaten cereal together when she’d come down stairs, already showered and dressed and ready for a day of lounging around the house, about an hour or so after he’d pulled on some running pants and went out to sit on the couch and watch television. It had been a good couple hours after that, that Jensen had poked his head out of Jared’s bedroom and announced that Misha, Vicky and West were coming over for a barbeque at three o’clock. 

“What’s for breakfast?” Jensen called out as he ducked back into the kitchen and headed over to the sink to inspect just what exactly Danni and Jared had gotten out to thaw. 

“Whatever you get yourself,” Danneel called back. 

Jared lifted his gaze to Danneel at her response, a slight smirk tugging at one corner of his lips. 

Danneel’s gaze flickered to Jared and she winked at him and returned his smile, grinning almost proudly at her cheeky reply to Jensen’s question. 

“You suck,” Jensen called back. “I want a divorce,” he added, a wide grin curling his lips as a soft chuckle broke from between his lips while he rummaged through the packages in the sink. 

Danneel scoffed and rolled her eyes in response, shaking her head at her husband‘s nonsense, “You wouldn’t know what to do without me,” she mumbled half under her breath, her words eliciting a snicker out of Jared.

Showered and dressed in khaki Bermuda cargo shorts, like the ones he’d had on before, and maroon a polo shirt; his small bandage removed from the bottom of his incision, and the area cleaned well, Jared stood in the kitchen with Danneel helping her with the potato salad she was making while Jensen paced near the door, waiting for their guests to arrive.

It was close to fifteen after three when Misha’s car pulled into the Ackles’ driveway, eliciting a wide grin to curl Jensen’s lips as he opened the front door to greet them. 

“Where’ve you been?” Jensen called as Misha slid from behind the wheel and stood to his feet.

Misha scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Trying to corral a two, almost three, year old into the car,” he answered with a grin as he moved to the back driver’s side door and reached for the handle. 

Jensen chuckled and watched as Misha ducked into the back of his car. His gaze was drawn away from his friend as Victoria stepped around the car and headed his way, a wide smile on her face as she looked Jensen’s way. 

“Hi!” she greeted cheerfully. 

“Hey, Vicky,” welcomed Jensen, wrapping his arms around her as she stepped up, giving her a hug.

A second later, as Misha pulled back from the car and to his full height, West shot from the car like he’d been launched from a canon and ran toward the house. 

“Hey you!” Jensen chuckled as he crouched, his eyes tracking the child, held his arms out toward him. 

West crashed into Jensen’s arms and wrapped his own around the older man’s neck in a fierce hug. Jensen continued to chuckle as he carefully pulled to his full height, holding the child in his arms. His wide smile met Misha’s as he stepped up to Jensen. 

“Hey, man, how’s it goin’?” he muttered as all three of them, along with West, headed into the house. 

Misha rolled his eyes and shook his head, his own smile firmly in place, “Eh, you know…” he mumbled in reply. 

“I guess your clothes weren’t in the yard?” Jensen deduced as he walked toward the kitchen alongside Misha. 

“Oh no, they were,” he corrected simply, “It’s okay though, I’ve had my eye on this one tree out there in the yard that I think looks quite inhabitable.” 

Jensen started to chuckle then paused, turning his full, wide eyed attention onto his friend, searching Misha’s features to make sure that he’d only been kidding, sometimes they never quite knew with Misha. Satisfied that that he hadn’t been serious, since living in a tree was something he could have actually seen their crazy ass friend doing, Jensen allowed his chuckle to spill forth with a shake of his head at their slightly eccentric friend as he followed Misha inside. 

“Hey, look what I got,” Jensen announced as he, Misha and Vicky rounded the corner into the kitchen. 

Danneel turned, a wide grin splitting her face at the sight of West, “Hey little man,” she greeted West jovially as she side stepped closer to him and Jensen, reaching out with one hand to wiggle one of West’s tennis-shoe clad feet. 

She turned her attention from the child to his parents, her smile still firmly in place. “Hey, guys,” she purred happily. “How are you?” 

Vicky nodded, “Good,” she replied with a smile of her own. 

“I’m good too,” offered Misha with a playful lift of his brows.

Danneel scoffed, “I know how you are,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. “I just saw you ten hours ago.” 

Misha shrugged, “Yeah, but still…” 

Danneel snickered and rolled her eyes, returning her attention to West. “You want an icee?” she inquired. 

“I have strawberry, blueberry and watermelon,” she offered. 

“I’ll take a blueberry,” Misha cut in. 

Danneel lifted her attention to Misha, “I wasn’t asking _you_ ,” she retorted playfully. “Besides, you know where the freezer is, go get one.” 

Misha harrumphed, “No respect, I swear,” he grumbled as he headed for the refrigerator/freezer. 

“Why should it be any different here?” Jensen asked with a chuckle. 

Misha nodded as he walked, “Yeah, that’d be a crime,” he responded sarcastically. 

Detouring from his intended route, Misha stepped over to Jared and opened his arms for a hug only to have Jared take a step back. Lowering his arms, Misha frowned in confusion before turning at the waist to look back at Jensen and Danneel. 

“Okay, which one of you has been telling Jared lies about me now?” he accused teasingly. 

“She did it,” Jensen volunteered immediately as he pointed with one hand at Danneel who scoffed and rolled her eyes. 

“I did not,” she retorted. “It was probably something _you_ said to him,” she blamed. “ _I_ wasn’t the one in bed with him.” 

Jared silently turned, while they all continued to argue over who it was that had spoken ill of Misha, and quietly hobbled out of the room. 

Turning his attention back to where Jared had been, with the intent of finding out what was wrong, Misha found instead that Jared was gone. 

Glancing back toward Misha and Jared, or at least where he had been, Jensen frowned at his lover’s abrupt departure. “Here, buddy,” he said to West as he bent at the waist and carefully placed the child back on his feet. “Wait here and let Auntie Danni get you an icee,” he instructed gently. “I’m gonna go see what’s eatin’ Jared.”

  
  


“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jensen asked as he entered the living room, finding Jared sitting on the couch all alone with his head hanging.

Looking up Jared shook his head, “Nothin’,” he replied. 

Jensen frowned and moved to take a seat next to Jared on the sofa. “Bullshit,” he retorted. “Talk to me,” he urged. 

Jared shook his head, “Nothin’ to say,” he murmured miserably. 

Jensen’s brow creased, “Oh yeah? So you just treated Misha like he has the plague for the hell of it?” 

“No,” mumbled Jared dejectedly. 

“Jare, come one, it’s me,” Jensen prodded. “Whatever it is, we can work it out. I love you.” 

Jared snorted and turned his head away as he felt the hot sting of tears at the corners of his eyes. 

Jensen’s brows lifted nearly to his hairline, “What the hell was that?” 

Shaking his head, Jared lifted a hand to swipe angrily at the tears that broke lose of his hold. “Nothing,” he snapped. “Don’t you have a family in there to be with?” 

Jensen’s brow knitted further and his features darkened into a scowl. “My family is right here acting like an ass,” he retorted irritatedly. “Or at least part of it,” he amended. 

“Sorry I’m not as _perfect_ as _Misha_ ,” Jared sneered through his tears, though he still refused to look at Jensen. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jensen questioned incredulously. 

It was only then that Jared turned back toward Jensen, his cheeks tear stained despite his best efforts. 

“Misha, your new boyfriend,” Jared responded contemptuously. 

Jensen’s brow furrowed so much that he was in danger of his face freezing that way, “My _what_?”

He sighed in annoyance, “Jared, we talked about this before and I _told you_ there is nothing going on between me and Misha,” he insisted. “Fuck, Jared, what the hell kind of person do you think I am!?” he yelled in frustration as he jumped to his feet. 

“I have _never_ even touched another person since you other than Danni and if you’d get your head out of your ass you’d _know that_!” 

“Then what were you doing with him until five in the morning?” accused Jared. 

“He came over to check on _you_ ,” Jensen retorted irritatedly. “And after I told his crazy ass that it was three in the damn morning and that you were in bed, Danneel and I wound up drinking coffee with him in the kitchen. That’s it, there’s my exciting night. I’m sorry but I didn’t think that coffee with Misha was worth waking you up for. You wanna check the coffee pot or maybe the trash? I’m sure you could find the used coffee filter in there still,” spat Jensen angrily. 

“Oh,” Jared muttered dejectedly as he lowered his gaze to the floor with a sniffle. 

Jensen scoffed in frustrated irritation as he nodded, “Yeah, _oh_ ,” he mocked angrily. Turning away from Jared he lifted a hand and wiped it downward over his mouth in a very Dean-esque fashion before looking back at Jared. 

“I swear, the only thing that’s gonna drive me away from you is _you_ , not the scars, not what happened to you, _you_ ,” he spat softly. 

Jared slowly lifted his eyes, which were wide and beseeching, a perfect parody of Sam’s best puppy eyed looks. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled sadly. 

Jensen nodded, “Yeah, you should be,” he muttered before turning toward the kitchen and walking away. 

“What’s wrong?” Danneel asked when she noticed Jensen walking back into the room. 

Shaking his head, Jensen reached for West who Danneel was holding on her hip while he ate his icee. “Apparently he accidentally put on a pair of your panties and now his junk’s in a bunch, he’ll get over it,” he responded disgustedly as he took hold of West. 

“I hate when that happens,” Misha remarked sagely, causing three sets of eyes to turn incredulously to him.

Feeling dually chastised for his behavior, Jared tried to join in on the fun in the back yard and not feel jealous when Misha and Jensen began to wrestle with one another and battle using the barbeque tongs as swords. Instead he forced a laugh and kept himself busy playing with West or talking with the women since he couldn’t stand too long with the men or roughhouse with them.

Jensen had stepped away from the grill and was playing tag with West and Misha when Danneel went to check on things and found that the grill had conveniently shut itself off due to being out of gas. 

“Shit,” she muttered. “Jen,” she called as she lifted her attention to the playing _children_. 

“Yeah?” he responded, catching West and lifting him up in his arms. “Time out, Mish,” he called back over his shoulder as he headed over to his wife. 

“We’re outta gas,” she explained as he stepped up to her. 

“I’ll go get it,” Jared offered. 

“No, sweetie, you can’t carry that and use the walker,” Danneel reasoned as she lifted her gaze to Jared as he pulled from the lawn chair to his full height. 

“I can make it,” he assured. “I barely lean on it now, I can do it.” 

Danneel sighed heavily and turned her attention to Jensen as though to get him to say something and stop Jared’s foolishness. 

Jensen however only shrugged, knowing that they needed to let Jared do what he felt he could. “If he wants to try let him go for it,” he responded before lifting his own attention to Jared. 

“Yeah, okay, it’s in the garage near my work bench.” 

“Work bench?” Misha inquired as he walked toward Jensen and Danneel. “What the hell are you working on in the garage, your stage make-up?” he teased. 

Jensen glared at his friend, “No, smart ass,” he quipped. “Ya know, Dean’s not the only one who knows a thing or two about cars.” 

Misha snickered, “Yeah, you wield a mean nozzle at the pump,” he joked. 

Danneel and Vicky couldn’t quite hold back their own snickers. 

“Aw, my poor baby,” Danneel cooed through her amusement, reaching out with one hand and cupping Jensen’s cheek fondly. 

Jared chuckled as he headed around the house toward the garage rather than going inside and out that way. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he called over his shoulder. 

“Okay,” Jensen called back before turning his attention back to Misha. “Alright now, where were we?” 

“My son and I were kicking your ass at tag,” responded Misha.

Jensen harrumphed as he headed back toward the middle of the yard with West still held in his arms, “You wish,” he grumbled. 

“Daddy’s crazy isn’t he?” he confided to West with a nod to his own words. 

“Come on, Danni join in, we’ll put West and your husband to shame,” Misha invited.

  
  


Jared snickered as he rounded the back side of the garage, making his way along the side as he headed toward the front, still able to hear Misha heckle Jensen. Thankfully he was actually beginning to be able to enjoy himself like old times.

He just stepped around the side of the garage, his walker’s legs hitting the concrete driveway when his eyes widened and nearly tumbled to the ground, knees going weak and heart skipping a beat and nearly stopping, or at least it felt like it with the tightness and razor sharp pain that zinged through his chest as he gazed in horror at what awaited him there. A choked mournful wail ripped from his throat as he stumbled backward, the action causing the walker to drag back with him across the concrete, and this time he did fall, smacking down on his ass hard, though he was barely aware of the fact, his attention fixated on the sight before him. 

Hearing Jared’s cry, Misha was off at a run around the back of the garage even before Jensen could shove West into Danneel’s arms. “Stay there,” he commanded before he took off after Misha, heading around the garage to the front. 

Quickly grabbing West as he was pushed into her arms, Danneel stared in wide eyed stupefaction, watching the men race around the back of the garage. 

Heart hammered wildly in his chest as he ran, Jensen’s mind racing and throwing up horrible images of Jared fallen and covered in his own blood, his incision having ripped open. His teeth clenched and his eyes stung at the imagery that his mind supplied and somehow, amongst all the chaos in his head, he managed to send a silent prayer into the heavens that Jared would be alright.

  
  


Rounding the side of the garage at the same time as Misha, Jensen’s eyes widened as his worst fear seemed to manifest itself before him, though despite the fact that Jared was on the ground he couldn’t see any blood, not even a stain on the front of his shirt. He rushed to Jared’s side and grasped his shoulders as he crouched.

“Are you alright? What’s a matter, baby? Where does it hurt?” Jensen asked in rapid fire succession. 

“Shit!” Misha swore though Jensen didn’t bother to look back. “Sonofabitch!” 

“Jared, talk to me,” Jensen demanded when Jared didn’t answer, only continued to stare straight ahead. 

“He’s fuckin’ trembling’ like hell, Mish,” Jensen called without looking back as he searched Jared for injury. 

“Jensen, it’s not him, it’s this,” Misha responded disgustedly. 

Only then did Jensen turn his head and look back, his brow furrowed questioningly as he gazed at Misha. It took him a second before he followed Misha’s gaze upward. He sucked in a shocked and startled breath as his eyes found the source of Jared’s trauma; there hanging from the garage’s small overhang, gutted with a rope around his severed throat, was Jared’s dog Harley. Entrails were strung between the animal and the once white concrete that was now stained with blood, swaying back and forth like some sort of grotesque wind chime. 

Jensen’s arms wrapped instinctively around Jared as though his embrace was going to keep Jared safe from the horrific sight. 

“Cut that thing down!” he shouted before turning his attention back to Jared. 

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” he soothed as he cupped the back of Jared’s head and tucked his lover’s face against in against his chest in an attempt to shield him from seeing the horrific sight behind them, though he knew that the effort was fruitless.

  
  


“Jen, what’s wrong, is Jared okay?” Danneel asked, the sound of her voice growing closer, giving away the fact that she was headed their way.

“Don’t come any closer!” Jensen yelled as he lifted his head. “Just stay back!”

The sound of something wet and heavy thwacking the concrete had Jensen cringing and hoping like hell that he had Jared’s head too smashed against his chest for him to have heard. 

Danneel’s eyes widened as she stopped mid-step at the side of the garage, “Jensen, what is it? Is Jared okay?” 

“Misha,” Jensen began as he turned his head back toward his friend only to be interrupted. 

“I got it,” Misha responded as he pocketed the pocket knife he had used to cut down the dog and quickly ducked back around the side of the garage. 

Turning his attention back to Jared, Jensen rocked his lover in his arms as he tucked his own face down next to Jared’s head, uttering soothing and comforting nonsense in an attempt to get his lover to stop trembling so badly.

It took both Jensen and Misha to get Jared up from the ground and onto his feet though it was more like they dragged him into the house than that he actually had found the strength to walk. Those dogs, Harley and Sadie were like Jared’s babies and Jensen wasn’t exactly certain if Jared would ever be right again. He hadn’t cried yet, actually Jared’s expression hadn‘t changed much from the one he’d had when they‘d found him, that look of complete and utter shock and bewilderment seemed to be cemented on his face. His body had also remained as stiff as a board save for the violent trembling that seemed unending. There had been some whispers from Misha regarding Jared being possibly catatonic as he’d explained to the women what had happened, leaving out as much of the really gory details as possible.

Outside, Misha had even went so far as to wrap Harley’s body up in an old sheet and drag him back into the garage so that other animals wouldn’t be nosing around to make him into a meal before he had helped Jensen get Jared into the house. Once they had all gotten inside, Misha had also called the police for Jensen since he was still busy holding Jared in his arms. Annoyingly enough, the dispatcher on the telephone had said that although they would send someone out, it might be a while due to a call they had received not long before that had taken most every available officer.

It took both Jensen and Misha to get Jared up off the ground and onto his feet though to be honest, they had to almost literally drag him into the house more so than getting him to actually move his own feet.

With lunch forgotten on the cold grill, everyone gathered in the living room while they waited for the police to arrive. Jensen sat on the couch with Jared, his arms still wrapped tightly around his rather stiff and rightfully traumatized lover. Jared still shook uncontrollably though it seemed to be slightly less intense now that they were inside and away from the horrific display. He had yet to speak a single word, keeping his face buried against the side of Jensen’s neck. 

“Who would do such a thing?” Danneel inquired disgustedly, her concerned gaze searching Jared’s deeply disturbed form. 

Pressing his lips together in a thin line, Jensen shook his head, his eyes slipping closed briefly as loathing for whatever sonofabitch had done the deed rolled through him. 

Blinking them open once more, he focused his forlorn gaze on his wife. “I don’t know,” he confessed softly. 

“You don’t think it’s about the show do you?” inquired Victoria as she looked between Jensen and her husband. 

Misha’s brows lifted as he considered that possibility, remember how not too long ago there had been right wing Christians that had wanted to throw all matter of vulgar objects at him due to where the show had taken his character. After a thoughtful pause, he shook his head, dismissing the idea that the deed could have possibly been perpetrated by some disgruntled fan. 

“Nah, it was never the actual _fans_ of the show that ever had a problem with anything, no matter how much they might despise the character, they’re loyal in that they feel _they_ can say anything they want about a character or the actor or actress playing them for that matter, but when it comes down to actually acting on those words, most of them would never allow something of this magnitude to occur,” he deduced. 

Jensen nodded, a slight movement of his head against Jared’s, “Misha’s right, I can’t see an actual fan of the show doing this. It has to be someone else,” he agreed. “It might be someone who _knows_ about the show, but it’s not an actual fan. It’d be easier to believe that it was a group like the one who tried all that bullshit with Misha, but Sam’s last episode wasn’t all that bad and shouldn’t have ruffled any _holier-than-thou_ feathers. Hell, Jared hasn’t even been anywhere near the studio in months, here or in Vancouver.”

Over a dozen police cruisers littered the lawn of the Malibu beach house; the front door held open wide by one of the officers backs pressed up against its rich mahogany wood, while others from the force and forensics unit wondered in and out.

Captain Newberry sighed wearily as he pulled into the long elaborately etched driveway and parked his black town car, an automobile given to him on the fiftieth anniversary with the force. He more than dreaded what he would find here, already knowing that the victim fit the description of what their phantom killer would seek, dark haired, muscular and of course, in the entertainment business. 

“I remember a time when dead murders actually stayed dead,” he mused to himself as he pushed open the car door and slid from behind the wheel, unfolding his long frame from inside the automobile. 

Closing the car door, he started for the door of the home, nodding to officers as he passed, though by the look on the captain’s face they all knew not to strike up any kind of real conversation with him. Lines of exhaustion etched his haggard features; there was a time when, upon occasion, he had been mistaken for Denzel Washington, now however he was sure that Denzel had at least one up on him in the looks department. 

“What have we got?” he inquired as he slipped past the officer at the door of the posh beach house and headed into the house. 

No one really answered, he simply followed the floors and gestures of those around him as he crossed the entry into the sitting room and passed, heading for what he assumed was the living room.

Sure enough he found the coroners boys huddled around the body inside. Crouching down next to one of them, their supervisor, Alan Sharp, he lifted his brows when he felt the man glance his way. He didn’t need to ask the man what had killed the man laying lifeless on the rich pile carpeting, his blood seeping down into the fibers and staining the soft grey a deep crimson. There were obvious lacerations to his abdomen, his t-shirt torn in long tatters; the same way his flesh had been as though perhaps the killer had made the cuts through the fabric then places the ripped pieces material around them like some soft of deranged frame. 

“Let me guess, stabbed and slit chest to groin,” Captain Newberry scoffed disgustedly. 

“Mm, looks to be that way, but the poor bastard had a few other things done to him, both before he died _and_ post mortem.”

“Such as?” the captain inquired with a lift of his brows as he turned his attention away from the corpse and looked over at Alan. 

“Uh, if we roll the vic over, he’s got lacerations of the buttocks and anus,” Alan responded. “Stab wounds. We also found traces of seamen.”

Captain Newberry already knew that he wasn’t going to like the answer, but he asked anyway. “Meaning?” 

Alan sighed heavily, “Meaning that our guy here had a knife shoved up his rectum while he was still alive but after death,” he responded then gave a harsh laugh, “Oh, after death our guy got down and dirty, screwed the living hell outta the bleeding….”

“Okay, okay, I get the picture,” Captain Newberry interrupted, holding a hand up to get the coroner to stop right there in his explanation. 

He shook his head disgustedly, “It’s not enough to just kill a person anymore,” he scoffed before pulling up to his full height. 

“Let me know if you find anything on the body, any trace of anything,” he instructed. 

Alan looked up at the Captain and nodded, “Always do,” he replied, turning his attention back to the body before him. 

“Captain, you might wanna come take a look at what we found in the kitchen,” a young officer said as he stepped just inside the room, jabbing his thumb behind him toward the room he’d just exited. 

Captain Newberry nodded silently and stepped over some of the police tape, carefully crossing the room, following the young officer as he led the Captain into the kitchen. Captain Newberry paused as soon as he stepped across the threshold into the kitchen, not needing to go any further to see what it was that had the officer coming to fetch him. There, across the once pristine white tile wall, was one word, hand painted in blood, with rivulets of the crimson, life-giving substance still dripping down from each bold letter. 

He stared at Jared’s name for a long moment, his mind racing, trying to reason away the thoughts that were going through his head. It couldn’t be the same Jared that had been attacked recently. The serial killer involved had been killed, it was over. And yet, no matter how long he stared at the dripping blood, the letters never changed and the name remained the same. 

“Sonofabitch,” he scoffed softly, the words spoken half under his breath as his eyes slipped closed against the horrific site. 

No, he was not going to allow history to repeat itself. Lifting a hand as he reopened his eyes, he ran it thoughtfully over his mouth before allowing it to slowly fall away. Tearing his gaze away from the grotesque graffiti, he turned his head and looked back over his shoulder, barking out a single command. “Somebody get me Aaron Hotchner on the phone.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared has been out of the hospital for six weeks and life at Jensen and Danneel’s place is pretty good. Supernatural has gone on without him, as per his request, but Jared still receives fan mail nearly every day. Danneel continues to spoil the hell out of him and what she doesn’t do, Jensen rushes in, when he isn’t on set, and takes care of. Together they’ve managed to give Jared a place where he can feel safe and loved and cared for while he continues to heal and grow stronger both physically as well as emotionally. All things considered, things seems to be going pretty well for Jared Padalecki. That is until a death threat inscribed into the flesh of a murder victim directs the police right back to Jared’s doorstep. It’s then that Agent Hotchner and his team are called back to the City of Angels, where once again they must hunt down a mad man before it’s too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Criminal Minds crossover with the “Supernatural brat pack”. It is a sequel to the fiction entitled **Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder**. A special thanks goes out once again to Jeff Davis for the creation of Criminal Minds, the set up and some of the words used within this fiction. A special thanks also goes out The Mark Gordon Company and CBS Television/ABC Studios. 
> 
> **Please note:** The author has taken liberties with some of the “facts” herein. Also, pleased be advised that included within this chapter are pictures/images that I created myself as well as tiggeratl1’s banner and grave stone divider.

_“"Try again, fail again. Fail better."_ ~ Samuel Beckett 

**Quantico, Virginia**

Agent Emily Prentiss, Spenser Reid and Derek Morgan stood, along with their commander, Aaron Hotchner around Emily’s desk talking and joking with one another when Penelope Garcia, the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit’s Technical Analyst hurried in from her office. 

“Sir, there’s a call for you,” she blurted as she skidded to a halt, her neon blue heels scuffling against the tiled floors. 

Aaron distractedly glanced her way, “Take a message, tell ’em I’ll call ’em back,” he dismissed, returning his attention to the conversation at hand. 

“But sir, you’re gonna wanna take this,” Penelope insisted. 

Aaron turned his attention back to Penelope, his lips pressed in a thin serious line as his gaze searched her features, the harried look on her face, cheeks flushed with color and the rate of her breathing, along with the fact that she had pressed the issue rather than accepting his response told Hotchner that whatever it was, it had to be important. Without a backward glance, he nodded to Garcia and motioned for her to lead the way. 

“What do you think that was about?” Reid mused, brow creased in curiosity. 

“Maybe our Internet bill is due,” Emily quipped dryly, though she stared after their two retreating co-workers, as did the others.

It was a good twenty minutes later when Aaron walked back into the room where the others were still mingling. “In the conference room, now,” he ordered sternly. “And find Rossi, tell him I want him in there too,” he added before turning on the ball of his foot and walking away. 

Emily turned her head toward the others, eyes wide despite being only minimally taken aback at Hotchner’s stern commands, “I guess the Internet bill must be pretty high…”

Almost thirty minutes later, Agent David Rossi was the last to join the others around the large circular table inside the conference room. 

“Sorry I’m late, had the ex on the phone,” he explained. 

“Which one?” Prentiss mumbled quietly. 

“Number three,” Rossi answered just as hushed. 

Hotchner’s eyes darted over to them from J. J. as she stood at the front of the room, “Shh,” he bit out softly before his eyes slid back to J. J. “Go on,” he directed with a nod toward J. J.

J. J, the team’s Media liaison looked from Rossi and Prentiss to Aaron and nodded. “Due to the phone call that Hotch received and the files that were faxed to us, we believe that there may be a copy cat killer in L.A.,” she began before stepping to the side out of the way of the overhead that depicted photos of the first crime scene onto the large screen behind her. 

“Justin Bartha was found in his home, along with his girlfriend Veronica Sparks on Thursday, both had their throats slashed and chest cavities sliced open, however Justin also bore puncture wounds to his chest and this,” J. J. narrated before clicking a button she held in her hand that would change the photo shown to the next picture on the slide. She took another step back out of the way as she revealed the forensics photo of Jared’s name cared into the thigh muscle of the deceased actor. 

She paused a moment for dramatic effect before adding, “Justin was dark haired and muscular, just like the victims of the Picasso Mangler.” 

She clicked the button again as she continued, “Friday afternoon, the police found Chris Hemsworth, brutally slaughtered, again in his home and on the wall they found the name Jared,” she continued as she clicked to the next photo of the writing on the wall that the police had photographed. “Written in blood,” she concluded. 

“So we’re thinking that this guy’s a copy cat of the Mangler?” Emily inquired, turning a glance on the others for verification. 

“You know any other Jared’s in Los Angeles that are connected to a deceased murder suspect?” Derek quipped dryly. 

Emily hummed her acknowledgement of Derek’s reasoning, giving a slight shrug of one shoulder. 

“Wait, go back,” Reid mused. 

His eyes tightened with concentration as he studied the scene displayed before them once J. J. had clicked back and the crime scene photo of Chris Hemsworth was once again displayed on the screen. 

“Well, if he’s trying to copy the Picasso Mangler, he’d definitely not as neat and precise with his kills,” he remarked. 

“No,” Emily agreed. “Where the Mangler’s strokes were purposeful, this guy’s all over the place. He just seems so…”

“Angry,” Rossi supplied. 

“Yeah, but about _what_?” Derek chimed in. 

Tearing her gaze away from the screen, Emily looked over at Aaron. “Have there been any direct threats made to Jared that we know of?” 

Agent Hotchner shook his head, “No, not yet,” he responded. “But if this guy is actually intent on finishing where the Mangler left off, then it’s only gonna be a matter of time before our unsub zeros in on Jared.” 

“Uh, one more thing, guys,” J. J. interrupted, causing all eyes to turn her way. 

“According to Captain Newberry’s secretary, there seems to have been a leak somewhere among the ranks and the entertainment media got a hold of the name that had been tossed about between the officers as kind of a joke regarding our unsub. Entertainment news and E! Online have already publicized articles online about the killings, and they’ve dubbed this guy, ‘The Ghost’.” 

“ _Ghost_?” Rossi questioned almost incredulously, disgust evident in his voice. 

“Well this _Ghost_ isn‘t sticking to the rules, it doesn’t appear as though he’s using twitter to chose his victims the way the Picasso Mangler did, he’s seeking out his victims by other means,” Hotchner said. 

“And hitting them in their homes,” Emily chimed in. 

“That’s true, the only victims that the Mangler attacked in their homes were Taylor Kitsch and Jared,” Emily agreed softly. 

“There’s also the lack of rapes,” Reid tossed out thoughtfully before looking up at J. J. “Neither of the victims were physically assaulted, correct?” 

“Well, that was what I was going to tell you, the first one, Justin Bartha wasn’t raped, neither he nor his girlfriend were. However Chris Hemsworth was raped with an object; the murder weapon, before his death. After however is another story. There was seamen found in the body and they believe that he was likely raped post mortem due.”

Rossi huffed softly, “Sounds as though he was trying to make up for the lack of a rape in the first murder, like it was an after thought,” he surmised. 

Hotchner reached for the speaker button on the console of the telephone that sat in the center of the large table. “Garcia, I want you to continue looking through twitter. Despite the way things look, I want to be certain that there is no way this guy is finding his victims there,” he directed. 

“Already on it,” came Penelope’s jubilant voice over the loud speaker. “So far it seems that people have actually learned a bit of a lesson from the last set of murders. There’s mentions of concerts but no real record of location or when.”

“Well, keep looking,” Hotch directed. 

“You betcha,” Garcia responded before Hotchner clicked off the call. 

“Everyone pack your bags, we’ll meet back here in an hour,” Hotchner instructed as he moved his arms, hands braced on the arms of his chair. 

Pulling to his feet, Hotchner walked purposefully around the table and headed out of the conference room. 

“Looks like we’re goin’ back to Los Angeles,” Rossi concluded.

  
  


** Los Angeles **

The sound of sirens in the distance caught everyone’s attention, everyone’s but except for Jared who was still in the same place he had been, clutching frantically at Jensen and hiding his face against the crook of his lover’s neck. 

“It’s about damn time they got here,” Jensen muttered irritably, half under his breath as he craned his neck to try and see out the window across the room from him.

Returning his attention to Jared, he dipped his head and pressed a tender kiss to his lover’s temple. “There almost here, Jare,” he murmured reassuringly, as though the arrival of a couple of officers would somehow wipe the memory of what he’d seen from Jared’s mind. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take very much longer before the squad car was pulling into the Ackles’ driveway and parking. 

Jensen turned his attention from the window to the traumatized man in his arms. “Jare, I need to go take care of this,” he murmured gently. 

Jared didn’t respond, only kept the death grip he had on the back of Jensen’s shirt, the material crinkling in his sweaty fisted hands while his face remained buried against his lover’s neck, wetting the tender skin along with the material of Jensen’s shirt collar with his tears. 

“I got it, you just stay there and take care of Jay,” Misha spoke up, pulling from his chair, standing to his feet and hurriedly making his way toward the door in one fluid motion. 

Jensen lifted his head at Misha’s words and watched as his friend crossed the room toward the front door before slowly starting to lower his attention back to his lover. 

“Harley,” Jared croaked hoarsely, it was the first word that he’d spoken since seeing his canine companion strung up like a side of beef. A sob shook Jared’s frame as images of Harley played before his closed eyelids and his lips pursed against the fresh onslaught of tears. 

The sound of Jared’s voice had everyone’s attention going to him, everyone that is except Misha, who was bury stepping out the door and pulling it softly closed behind him. 

Danneel pulled from her seat and walked over to the sofa; reaching out, she ran a hand lovingly over Jared’s hair while Jensen murmured soothing nonsense to him and tried to get Jared calmed a little. 

“I know, baby,” Jensen soothed, running a hand up and down his lover’s back. “But I need to go help Misha with the police,” he entreated. “I won’t be long, I promise,” he assured gently. 

Slowly, Jared began to pull his head back, tear streaks staining his cheeks, his eyes red rimmed and nose as bright a crimson hue as Rudolph’s. Lifting his attention to Danneel, Jensen jerked his head to the side, silently calling his wife to come around the couch to sit with Jared. As she neared, Jensen eased himself out of Jared’s hold and pulled slowly to his feet. 

“Danni’s here, Jare, she’s gonna stay with you till I get back,” Jensen murmured comfortingly. 

As Danneel took Jensen’s place on the couch, Jared wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close as he lowered his head once more and buried his face against her neck. 

Danneel‘s eyes lifted to meet Jensen‘s when he seemed to pause at her side, “Go, it’s alright, I got him,” Danneel assured softly with a nod toward the door. 

Jensen gave a nod and leaned down, pressing a kiss against the top of Danneel’s head. “Love you,” he murmured as he straightened. He winked at his wife when she tilted her face up, her eyes meeting his, an adoring smile curving her lips. 

She watched him turn and head for the door, her smile still firmly held in place until the moment when he walked out and the door clicked closed behind him. It was then that her eyes swung to Victoria, the two women exchanging a look of sympathetic disgust at what the poor boys were having to deal with.

Jensen made his way over to where Misha stood talking with the two officers who stood in the driveway near their patrol car. One of them was busily jotting down in a log book everything that Misha was telling them while the other nodded to Misha’s words while interjecting a few questions of his own regarding the incident and findings. 

“Are you certain that you don’t know of anyone who might have wanted to scare Jared in any way or cause, or, since he’s presumably close to his dogs, any kind of mental anguish?” The officer was asking as Jensen stepped up to Misha’s side. 

“No,” Jensen cut in, “No one.” 

“And you are?” the officer inquired, eyeing Jensen up and down curiously. 

“The owner of this house,” Jensen replied. 

“So this is your property, Mister….?”

“Ackles,” Jensen supplied, “And yeah, this is my property,” he confirmed. 

The officer nodded and glanced at his partner as the man continued to silently jot down information. 

Returning his attention to Jensen and Misha, he jutted his chin toward the garage where Misha had told the officers he had dragged the dog’s body. “Let’s see what ya got,” he suggested. 

The two officers followed Misha and Jensen as they lead the way over to the garage where Misha turned to Jensen and lifted his brows. “Can you open this up?” he inquired with a slight jerk of his head toward the closed garage door. 

Jensen paused a moment before nodding as it dawned on him what Misha had done before, opened the garage and dragged Harley’s remains inside though since he didn’t have a key or the garage door opener at the time and he hadn’t come into the house to push the button hanging on the wall by the back door, Misha had actually wrestled the heavy ass thing up. 

“Yeah, hold on,” Jensen responded with a nod before turning and jogging over to his Jeep. He pulled open the driver’s side door and reached in, pushing the garage opener that hung at his rearview mirror. He turned his attention, despite hearing it begin to lift and checked to see what it was doing as it was supposed to before he pulled back from the Jeep and closed the door. 

Jogging back over to Misha, he followed his friend just inside the door and over to the wrapped body of Jared’s beloved pet. Bending at the waist once they had reached the animal, Misha pulled back one corner of the sheet, allowing the police officers to view the remains. He turned his attention to the officers as he straightened and lifted his brows. 

“This is what we found,” he concluded. “I wrapped him up and dragged him in here,” he explained. 

The officers nodded, the one still clutching his notepad and pen bent over and reached with the hand that held the pen, using it to push the sheet just a bit further back as the two officers eyed the animal corpse. 

“Approximately what time did this occur?” one of the officers inquired. 

“Uh…” Jensen began only to pause as he looked over at Misha. “About four thirty?” he inquired. 

Misha frowned thoughtfully before nodding, “Yeah, about four thirty, give or take a few minutes.” 

“So this wasn’t here this morning?” the officer pressed. 

Jensen’s brows rose as he shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t think so,” he responded with yet another glance Misha’s way. 

“No, it wasn’t here when my wife and I pulled in around three,” he affirmed. 

“So someone did this while all of you were out back?” the officer inquired, his gaze darting between the two of them. 

Misha had already filled them in on the fact that Jared had come around the house intent on getting some gas for the grill only to find his dog butchered instead. 

Jensen’s eyes widened slightly, taken aback by the notion that perhaps someone had been here, on his property, near his home while they had all been vulnerable, playing in the back yard. 

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed somewhat woodenly. “I guess so.” 

“None of you heard anything?” the officer inquired. 

“No,” both Misha and Jensen replied in unison. 

The officer nodded and glanced over at his partner. “We’ll look into it, but since it is just an animal there isn’t really much that we can do. My advice would be just to stay indoors for the next couple of days, be sure to lock up your house, even while you’re home and during the day; give this asshole time to cool his heels. You shouldn’t have anymore trouble,” he said as he looked back at Jensen. 

“Do you, uh, need someone to dispose of the body?” the officer who had yet to say anything inquired. 

Jensen’s lips parted, intending to answer only to find himself once again glancing over at Misha before returning his attention to the officers as he shook his head. 

“Uh, no, thanks. Jared’ll probably want his vet to deal with the body, so we’ll take it there,” he replied decisively. 

The two officers nodded their acceptance, “Okay, try to enjoy the rest of your evening and we apologize for taking so long to get out here; call us if anything else happens.” the other officer responded as they both reached up and grabbed the brim of their hats, tipping them slightly before turning and sauntering back to their patrol car. 

“We’ll do, and thanks,” Jensen muttered as he and Misha watched the officers walk away and climb into their car. 

As the officers backed out of the driveway and drove away, Jensen turned his attention to Misha. “I should probably load Harley up in the Jeep and take his body over to Doc Anderson’s,” he murmured. 

Misha nodded, lips pressed into a thin pensive line, brow furrowed thoughtfully. “I’ll go with you,” he offered. 

Jensen paused in mid motion, having bent at the waist and reached out for the dog intending on picking up the body. His brow creased skeptically as he turned his head and looked up at Misha. “You sure?” he inquired before pulling up to his full height empty handed. 

Misha gave a nonchalant shrug, “Sure, why not?” he replied, eying Jensen with concern, knowing that the dog’s death hadn’t been easy for him to witness either since he’d known the animal almost as long as Jared. “It’s not like you oughtta be doin’ this alone either,” he reasoned. 

Jensen gave a slight nod and lifted a hand to Misha’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze, “Thanks, Mish,” he murmured. 

“Don’t mention it,” Misha responded automatically. “You can pay me back later with that nude pic for the minions,” he suggested playfully as the two of them turned back to the dogs dead body.

Agent Hotchner and his team were picked up at the airport by the same two black broncos that the department gave them to use before, half the team loading into one vehicle while the other half went in the other. As they arrived at the police station Captain Newberry was on the front steps leading into the police station waiting for them. After climbing out of the trucks, the team made their way up the steps, stopping as they reached the officer in charge. Hotchner held out his hand, shaking Captain Newberry’s firmly. 

“Captain,” Aaron Hotchner murmured in greeting. 

“Agent Hotchner, it’s good to see you all again. I’m just sorry that it had to be under these circumstances,” the Captain responded with a curt nod as he returned the agents handshake. 

“You remember my team; Agent Prentiss and Morgan, Senior S. S. A, David Rossi, Dr. Spenser Reid, and our Media Liaison, Jenifer “J. J.” Jareau,” Hotch introduced. 

Captain Newberry nodded to each of them while offering a rather strained yet professional smile. “Good to have you all back, but again…” he responded with a heavy sigh. “I just wish it wasn’t for this,” he muttered dejectedly. 

“Come on inside and we’ll let you folks get started, anything you need, just let me know and I’ll be sure that you get it,” he directed before turning and heading into the building, holding the door for the others once he’d crossed the threshold. 

The team walked in single file, each member offering the Captain a tight lipped smile as they passed him to gather around Hotchner just inside the door. 

“Is there anything else you can tell us about these murders other than what we‘ve already disgusted?” Agent Hotchner inquired, brow creased curiously. 

“Yeah,” Captain Newberry replied with a nod as he released his hold on the door and turned to face the agents, his eyes meeting Agent Hotchner’s. “The sonofabitch is getting closer to Jared.”

The trip back from the veterinarians was a silent one, both men lost in their own thoughts. It was about a block from Jensen’s house when he finally turned his attention from the road to his friend; quietly pondering God only knew what, beside him. 

“Hey, you feel like a drink?” he inquired. “I wanna get back to Jay, but I dunno if my being there right now, with the way I feel is gonna help much, he might just be better off with the girls until I can sorta get outta this funk,” he reasoned with a shrug of one shoulder. 

Misha turned his attention away from the scenery passing by and looked over at Jensen thoughtfully. He gave a nod to Jensen’s words and glanced out the windshield before looking back at his friend. 

“Yeah, a drink sounds good,” he agreed.

Misha had called Vicky on her cell earlier to let the women know that they were taking the Harley’s body to the vets and it was Misha again now, who called to let the girls know that they were going to stop and get a drink before returning as well as check on Jared to see how he was doing. The news however wasn’t much better than it had been the first time that they had inquired about Jared; despite the fact that he was sitting back on the sofa now, he was still trembling fiercely and had yet to utter a single word other than what he had said just before Jensen had gotten up to help Misha with the police. He was now also just staring straight ahead at some unknown point, vacantly as though he had checked out for the present time in order to cope with what he’d seen.

“Here ya go, Jare,” Danneel murmured soothingly as she crossed the distance between herself and Jared, heading back into the living room from the kitchen, a tall glass of cold water in her hand. 

Crouching in front of where Jared sat on the couch, she tilted her face up, gazing into his with a warm and reassuring smile curving her lips as she lifted the glass slightly for him to take. Rather than moving his hand to accept the offered drink or at least lowering his gaze to Danni’s features, Jared simply continued to stare straight ahead without budging, as though he hadn’t heard or seen a single thing. 

Danneel sighed wearily, her brow creased with worry as she pressed her lips into a tight line of frustration as she pulled to her full height and took another step slightly past Jared, allowing herself to plop down on the couch next to him, glass of water still in hand. 

“I dunno what to do,” she mumbled dejectedly, her gaze searching Jared’s profile with concern. 

“I dunno why everyone thinks that a simple little glass of water is supposed to make everything better,” Victoria responded with a quirk of one brow and a slight shrug. 

Danneel turned her attention away from Jared, looking over her shoulder, since she was sitting sideways on the couch facing Jared, and grinned at Victoria. 

“I’m serious,” Vicky insisted. “Someone hears that they have cancer and the first thing a person does is go run and get them a glass of water. What, did we suddenly discover that water cures cancer? No, we didn’t. Someone finds out that something has happened to a loved one and right away, someone is running over with a glass of water, as though it has some magical ingredient in it that allows one to turn back the hands of time. It‘s ridiculous.” 

A chuckle bubbled out from between Danneel’s lips as she frowned thoughtfully and gave a small shrug, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It does seem kinda silly when you really think about it. I guess it’s just the need to do something normal, something automatic and mundane.” 

“So fart,” Victoria responded dryly. 

Danneel eyes widened with amused incredulousness at Victoria’s words, and she couldn’t help the howl of laughter that broke from her throat which, despite the loud volume, still carried a melodic lilt to its timbre.

“You think we should go to the Ackles home and warn Jared about what‘s happened?” Agent Prentiss asked as she and the other members of the team studied maps of the city, marked ion red where their Ghost killer had struck. 

“No,” Hotchner responded firmly with a shake of his head as his gaze snapped up from the map to meet Emily’s. “If we do that without knowing all the facts we’re libel to do more harm than good,” he reasoned. 

“So we’re just gonna wait until this lunatic finds Jared?” she countered incredulously. 

“No, but we’re not going to alarm him if there’s no need to,” Hotchner replied sternly. 

“Morgan, I need you to tell Garcia to search Tate’s records; we’re looking for a fan, maybe a family member or loved one who might want to pick up where Tate left off,” Hotch directed. 

Agent Morgan gave a curt not and immediately reached for his cell as he turned, pacing away from the table as he called Penelope. 

“I agree that we have to take precautions but there’s no need to upset anyone if we don’t have to,” Hotchner reasoned. 

He turned his attention to Captain Newberry who stood close by, “Captain if you could have some of you men keep tabs on the Ackles’ home, drive by maybe once every hour. Have them be on the look out for anything suspicious. And if they even think that something is off, have them get a hold of me,” Hotchner instructed. 

Captain Newberry nodded, “I’ll get a car out there right away,” he assured before exiting the room.

Jensen and Misha didn’t linger long at Mike’s, the bar that sat about a mile and a half from the turn off that led home. They each got a beer and tried to relax though despite their stopping having been Jensen’s idea, the longer they sat there the more tense and worried about Jared he got until finally Misha suggested they leave and Jensen nearly sprang from his seat in response. 

Misha’s eyes widened just slightly for a moment at the abrupt movement before his lips slowly curved into a wide grin. “I guess that means you’re ready?” he surmised with a soft chuckle as he gazed up at Jensen who was already standing. 

“Oh shuddup,” Jensen drawled with a roll of his eyes as he pushed his chair in and jerked his head toward the door. 

Misha continued to snicker softly as he pulled to his own feet and turned to follow Jensen out of the bar.

The trip home was a quiet one, Jensen focusing on Jared and worrying about how he was doing. Misha was lost in his own thoughts, pondering over the events of the last several days and trying to put some reason, some explanation to what Jared had found today. When the jeep pulled into the drive way at the Ackles’ home, both men sat there in the jeep for a long moment before glancing over at one another as though looking for advice or someone to follow. 

“Guess we oughtta go in, huh?” Jensen inquired softly, not that he really needed an answer. 

Misha nodded, lips pressed in a thin line as he reached one hand toward the door handle and grasped it. 

“Yeah, come on,” he replied gently with a jerk of his head as he popped open the door. 

Jensen released a soft breath as he gave a nod and reached for the handle of his own door, popping it open before sliding from behind the wheel and pulling to his feet. Both doors of the jeep slammed shut simultaneously as the men turned toward the house, heading toward the front door. Stepping up onto the porch behind Jensen and he unlocked the door, Misha laid his hand on his buddy’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

“It’ll be okay, man, Jared’ll get through this,” he encouraged gently as Jensen pushed the door open.

Danneel’s attention shifted from West who was standing in front of her with a sheet of construction paper and a crayon in his hand to the door as it opened, her eyes widening with delight upon seeing the men walk in. 

“Hey!” she greeted cheerfully. 

“Hey, baby,” Jensen murmured as he stepped over to her and bent at the waist, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. 

His attention then lifted to Jared who sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket, staring off at nothing. Danneel’s gaze followed Jensen’s before returning to him, her lips pressed into a worried firm line. 

“I wrapped him in a blanket hoping maybe it’d help him stop shaking,” she explained softly. “He’s been more or less like that ever since you left.” 

Her gaze darted to Misha who stood next to his wife, his face pulled into worried lines, eyes tightened thoughtfully as he eyed Jared. 

Stepping past Danneel, Jensen crouched in front of Jared, “Hey, baby,” he murmured gently. “I’m here now, Jare, everything’s gonna be okay,” he assured as he reached up and ran his hand up and down the side of Jared’s bicep. 

Jared’s eyes suddenly darted to Jensen’s, lips parting softly as his vision finally came into focus as though just realizing that someone else was there. He leaned forward toward Jensen; so much so that Jensen was forced to wrap his arms around him for fear that he might just topple over off the couch. 

“Hey, it’s okay, baby,” he soothed, “it’s okay,” he whispered, running his hand up and down Jared’s back comfortingly. 

Jared shook his head slightly as he buried his face against Jensen’s neck and breathed in his scent. “He’s coming for me,” he whispered.

Captain Newberry walked back into the conference room where the BAU team was still gathered accompanied by two officers. 

“Lieutenant Turner, I want you to tell Agent Hotchner what you told me,” Captain Newberry instructed when Hotch looked up toward the three of them. 

Hotchner straightened, face set in grim lines as he eyed the officer, “Go ahead, Lieutenant,” he urged with a nod to the man. 

“Uh,” he glanced at his partner before returning his attention to the Agent and licked his lips nervously, “Officer Jones and I went on a call about a dog that’d been found butchered,” Lieutenant Turner began. 

“Strung up and degutted, actually,” Officer Jones cut in. 

“Yeah, well, we didn’t think anything of it, ya know, some destructive kid in the neighborhood, a disgruntled neighbor maybe,” he explained with a shrug of one shoulder. 

“Okay now tell him whose house this was at,” Captain Newberry interrupted sternly. 

The officer looked nervously over at his Captain before returning his attention to Agent Hotchner. 

“It was the Ackles’ residence, sir,” he concluded. 

“Jensen Ackles?” Hotchner inquired with a glance at Captain Newberry. 

Newberry nodded, “It was Jared’s dog,” he affirmed. “The animal’s chest cavity and stomach sliced open in a way that was a helluva lot like the Mangler did his victims.” 

“A calling card,” Rossi surmised, eyes tightened thoughtfully. 

Hotchner gave a nod, “Maybe,” he allowed. 

He turned his attention to Agent Prentiss, “Looks like you’re going to get to tell the Ackles’ after all.” 

“I -” Emily stammered her eyes wide as they darted between Rossi and Hotchner. 

“You, Rossi, Reid and I will head out there,” Hotchner directed before his attention swung from Agent Prentiss over to Morgan. “Derek, get a hold of Garcia and see if she’s found anything. If this unsub has left a calling card at Jared’s residence it won’t be long before he goes after his intended target.”

“Jared, no one is coming for you,” Jensen insisted. “Hotchner killed that sick sonofabitch.” 

The two of them sat on the couch, Jensen’s arms still around Jared and his lover up against his torso, leaning in so far that he was nearly in Jensen’s lap. 

“He’s the one who killed Harley,” Jared retorted hoarsely, swallowing back a sob. 

“Jare, Tate is dead, I saw them wheel him out of the cellar,” Misha piped in. 

“Yeah, honey,” Danneel murmured as she sat down on the sofa on Jared’s other side and reached a hand up to rub his back soothingly. “No one is after you,” she assured. 

West walked over to Jared and offered him the picture he had drawn on the construction paper he’d been coloring on. 

“Aw, hey buddy, thanks,” Jensen said with a wide smile as he took the paper from him for Jared. 

“It for Unkee Jared,” West responded. 

“Yeah, but I’m gonna hold it for him, okay?” Jensen explained. 

West signed the word ‘doggie’ as he looked up into Jared’s face, the gesture recognizable by those who knew and loved West since once Misha had started his son learning sign language they had all taken a crash course of it themselves. Jared immediately reached for West, pulling him in and hugging him tightly with one arm while his other arm remained wrapped securely around Jensen, clinging tightly to him. 

“Aw,” Danneel drawled out the words in adoration as she leaned in and wrapped an arm around both West and Jared, her attention going to Misha and Victoria. 

“He is so sweet,” she gushed. 

Misha grinned proudly at his son and glanced over at his wife, who was also smiling before looking back at West and Jared. “That’s really sweet of you, West man,” he praised. \

West drew his head back from where it had been smashed against Jared’s chest and looked back at his Daddy. “Daddy,” he grunted, reaching one had back toward his father for assistance against being squeezed so tightly. 

The movement had Jared lifting his head from where he had buried it against West’s hair in an attempt to hide his tears. Sniffling, he gave a teary chuckle and loosened his death grip on both West and Jensen. 

“Sorry about that, man,” he apologized as he pulled his arm from around West to tousle his hair fondly. 

West nodded as he wiggled free of Jared and made a beeline over to his Daddy, jumping up into Misha’s arms, clinging to him tightly. 

“Aw, Jare, I think you scared him,” Danneel surmised with a chuckle. 

Jared frowned playfully up at West, “Sorry, buddy,” he offered. 

“Hey, West, Uncle Jared’s talkin’ to you,” Misha murmured only to have his son snuggle closer to him and hide his face against his Daddy’s neck. 

“Mm,” Misha shook his head, lips pressed in a thin line. “Nope, he doesn’t wanna talk about it,” he deduced with a chuckle. “You broke my kid.” 

Jensen and Danneel chuckled, patting Jared on the back while Jared pouted playfully up at West. 

“Uh oh, now Jared’s gonna cry,” Jensen predicted, though everyone was just happy that West had managed what it seemed no one else could, bringing Jared out of his gloom. 

His words got a chuckle of laughter from everyone before West wiggled down out of his Dad’s arms and ran off to play with the crayons and paper he had scattered on the floor across the room. 

“Uh, I think he’s done,” Jensen deduced with a nod. “No more huggin’ and handin’ out presents, he’s done with all of it.” 

Misha nodded, “Yeah, I think you’re right,” he agreed. Looks like you’re outta luck, Jare,” he chuckled.

It was close to seven thirty when the black bronco pulled into the Ackles’ driveway. Jensen, Danneel and the Collins’ family all sat in the living room talking when a knock sounded at the door, diverting their attention from the laughter and conversation they’d been having. 

Jensen’s brow creased with confusion as he turned his gaze toward the door, catching glimpses of someone dressed in what looked like a dark suit and what appeared to be a woman in dark dress clothes through the windows that ran along each side of the front door. 

“Wonder who that could be?” he mused with a glance back at Danneel as he pulled to his feet. 

Danneel’s brow creased as in confused curiosity as well as and she glanced up at her husband as Jensen pulled to his feet, standing as well as he passed her. 

“Excuse me a minute,” she mumbled to Misha and Victoria as she followed after Jensen as he made his way across the room toward the front door. 

Misha and Victoria both nodded in unison, their smiles slowly melting away to looks of curiosity as their eyes tracked their friends as Jensen and Danneel walked to the door. 

Reaching the front door, Jensen looked through the peep hole, his brow creasing further as he pulled back and threw the locks back, hand twisting the door handle, pulling it open. 

“Mr. Ackles,” Agent Hotchner greeted with a nod, lips pressed into a thin serious line. 

“Hi, Jensen,” Emily greeted less formally as Reid gave a nod, lips pressed into a thin smile.

“Jensen,” Rossi murmured, offering a soft tight lipped smile as he gave a nod. 

Jensen’s eyes darted from one member of the team to the next in wonder, “Wh--” he began only for a wide grin to curve his lips as he offered a hand to Hotchner to shake. 

“Agent Hotchner,” he greeted. “What the hell are ya’ll doing here?” 

Agent Hotchner shook Jensen’s hand firmly before releasing it. “Uh, may we come in?” he inquired, side stepping Jensen’s question regarding their presence somewhat. 

Jensen was in the middle of offering his hand to Emily, then Reid and lastly Rossi, Danneel following suit behind him, working her way through the team shaking hands, when Agent Hotchner’s question had him pausing and turning his attention back to the lead agent as Rossi released his hand. 

“Uh, yeah,” he said with nod as he took a step back, pulling the door open further. “Sure, come on in,” he invited with a bit of confusion. 

Misha stood to his feet and Victoria followed suit after she picked up West, holding him in her arms as they watched the Agents enter. 

As the last person stepped across the threshold and into the house, Jensen stepped forward again and closed the door behind them then, after throwing the locks like the police had advised them earlier, he turned his attention back to the members of the BAU. 

“What brings ya’ll back in town?” he asked again, brow knitted curiously. 

He wrapped his arm around Danneel as she moved to stand beside him, her inquisitive gaze locked on the Agents. 

“How is Jared doing?” Agent Hotchner asked rather than answering Jensen’s question. 

Jensen’s brows rose, “Oh Jared’s good. I mean, as good as can be expected,” he responded. 

“Why?” he inquired, looking from Hotchner to the others, “What’s this about?”

“We, uh, we heard about Jared’s dog,” Emily murmured. 

“Harry, wasn’t it?” Rossi inquired. 

“Harley,” Jensen corrected gently with a nod. 

He shook his head, returning his attention to Hotchner as his lips curved into a smile though his brow once again furrowed in confusion. “Don’t tell me they actually called you guys in about the dog…” 

“No,” Emily replied with a smirk, stifling a chuckle. 

“Actually there _are_ pet detectives,” Reid cut in. “However they aren’t actually part of the department and usually privately employed.” 

Hotchner glanced back at Reid who cleared his throat and offered his commander a small tight lipped smile before lowering his gaze. 

“Actually, it is part of why we’re here,” Hotchner allowed as he returned his attention to Jensen. 

“We have reason to believe that there may be a serial killer stalking Jared,” he explained. 

Jensen’s eyes widened, “What?” he breathed in disbelief. 

“A copy cat,” Rossi added. “Someone who may be trying to pick up where Tate left off.” 

Jensen’s gaze darted between each agent. “What… why? I - I mean, why would you think that?” 

“There have been killings near here,” Emily murmured gently. 

“Jared’s name being left at each one,” Hotchner continued. 

“After hearing about Jared’s dog, we felt it in everyone’s best interest that we stop by,” Rossi explained, his dark gaze darting to each person in the room. 

“Where is Jared?” Hotchner asked. 

“He - he’s just…” Jensen began, jabbing a thumb toward the back. “Back in the bathroom,” he stammered and shook his head. “You can’t… you can’t tell Jared about this. He already thinks that someone’s coming to get him.” 

“Someone very well may be,” Hotchner replied stonily.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared has been out of the hospital for six weeks and life at Jensen and Danneel’s place is pretty good. Supernatural has gone on without him, as per his request, but Jared still receives fan mail nearly every day. Danneel continues to spoil the hell out of him and what she doesn’t do, Jensen rushes in, when he isn’t on set, and takes care of. Together they’ve managed to give Jared a place where he can feel safe and loved and cared for while he continues to heal and grow stronger both physically as well as emotionally. All things considered, things seem to be going pretty well for Jared Padalecki. That is until a death threat inscribed into the flesh of a murder victim directs the police right back to Jared’s doorstep. It’s then that Agent Hotchner and his team are called back to the City of Angels, where once again they must hunt down a mad man before it’s too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Criminal Minds crossover with the “Supernatural brat pack”. It is a sequel to the fiction entitled **Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder**. A special thanks goes out once again to Jeff Davis for the creation of Criminal Minds, the set up and some of the words used within this fiction. A special thanks also goes out The Mark Gordon Company and CBS Television/ABC Studios. 
> 
> **Please note:** The author has taken liberties with some of the “facts” herein. Also, please be advised that included within this chapter are pictures/images that I created myself as well as tiggeratl1’s banner and grave stone divider.

_"When a good man is hurt, all who would be called good must suffer with him."_ ~ Euripides.

Danneel’s gasped breath as she turned toward Jensen, holding onto him a little tighter, seemed to echo in the silence of the room as Jensen’s breath hitched and his eyes widened marginally, his heart hammering out a panicked tempo in his chest. His lips parted, intending to say what he wasn’t sure only to not have to be as the ringing of the telephone pulled his attention away from the agents. He managed to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat a second after he’d initially tried to speak, clearing it softly before his tongue darted out to lick across his lips. “I - I have to get that,” he croaked before pulling away from Danneel and heading for the telephone in the kitchen. 

Danneel started after him only to have him pause in his steps and stop her, hand wrapping around her forearm as he shook his head. “No, just… just stay here,” he murmured before releasing her and continuing on his way. 

Reaching the phone that hung on the wall near the refrigerator; Jensen lifted the receiver from its base and held it to his ear. “Yeah?” 

“Since when do you answer the phone, _‘Yeah’_?” came the male voice on the other end of the line. 

Jensen released a heavy sigh and hung his head, “Oh man, it’s good to hear your voice.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“Chris, you’re never gonna believe this,” Jensen began. “Hotch and the gang are here, they think that there’s a copy cat killer after Jared.” 

“What!?” Christian Kane inquired incredulously. 

“Yeah,” Jensen muttered softly as he lifted a hand, running it down his face in a very Dean-like manner.

“Holy shit!” Christ spat irritably. “Does Jared know?” 

“No,” Jensen responded as he lifted his head and shook it, “No, not yet.” 

“Well are ya gonna tell him?” Christian inquired. 

“I dunno, I’m not sure if I have a choice in the matter,” Jensen murmured with a weary sigh. 

“Damn,” Chris sighed. “Look, don’t move, I’m on my way,” he instructed. “I should be there in about an hour or two.” 

“We can tell Jare together,” he suggested. 

“The team’s here now,” Jensen commented. 

“I don’t give a rat’s ass; you tell ’em that they gotta wait. Jared doesn’t need to find this shit out without all of us there with him,” Chris reasoned. 

Jensen nodded despite the fact that Chris couldn’t see the gesture. “Yeah, alright,” he agreed even though he still wasn’t too sure that the BAU team would see things their way. 

“Just hurry, huh?” he implored. 

“You got it, man,” Chris promised. “Just hang tight.” 

With that the telephone went dead in Jensen’s ear. Pulling the receiver away, Jensen looked at it with a scoffed sigh as he shook his head, “I hope you get here in time,” he mused half under his breath as he hung up the phone. 

“Hey, that was Chris on the phone,” Jensen began as he headed out of the kitchen. “We’d really like it if you guys could wait to tell Jared until after he got here,” he concluded as he came to stand before the team of agents. 

“Chris?” Danneel inquired. “Is everything okay?”

Jensen nodded, “Yeah, he’s on his way home.”

“How long exactly is that going to take?” Hotchner inquired. 

Jensen shrugged, “I dunno, he said he’d be here in an hour to two hours,” he explained. 

Hotchner sighed heavily as he shook his head, “We don’t have time to wait,” he responded. 

“Well you can’t just tell Jared about this,” Jensen argued. “He needs us all here…” 

“Can’t tell Jared what?” inquired Jared as he made his way out from the bathroom, his walker making muffled clicking sounds against the wood floors as he moved. 

Hotchner turned his attention toward the sound of Jared’s voice as also Jensen turned his head toward his lover. 

“Uh, nothing,” Jensen quickly answered before Hotch had the chance to speak. 

Jared’s gaze moved curiously from Jensen to Agent Hotchner. “Well, it’s somethin’,” he retorted. 

“What are you guys doing here?” he inquired as his gaze met Aaron’s. 

Hotchner’s lips parted and he started to speak thought he was interrupted before he could get a word in. 

“Nothing,” Emily cut in, glancing over at Hotchner nervously before returning her gaze to Jared with a smile. “We just…we wanted to see how you were doing,” she lied. 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Rossi concurred with a nod and a forced smile of his own as he stepped forward. “We were…just in the neighborhood…” he explained, his words trailing off as he smiled. 

Reid however stood with his brow creased, a puzzled expression marring his features as his gaze darted between the two agents. “I thought…” he began. 

“No!” Agent Prentiss cut him off, a little too loudly before forcing a smile. “I, uh, I mean, you’re wrong,” she corrected softly. 

Jared’s gaze darted between the agents confusedly before settling back on Emily Prentiss’ smiling face, returning it with one of his own as he crossed the room to stand before them, offering his hand to her first as he leaned against his walker with his other hand. 

Emily immediately took Jared’s hand and shook it, pressing her free hand atop his. “You look good,” she offered warmly. 

Rossi immediately took Jared’s hand and shook it as soon as Emily released it. “Glad you’re doing so well,” he murmured with a nod. 

“Uh, sorry to hear about your dog,” Reid offered as he shook Jared’s hand. 

Emily’s wide eyed gaze swung to Spencer’s and Rossi sighed heavily in resignation as he rolled his eyes, pressing his lips into a thin line as he eyed Jared with concern. 

Jared nodded, “Yeah…yeah…me too,” he agreed dejectedly. 

“Jared, that’s really not why we’re here,” Hotchner muttered, his face set in serious lines. 

Jared’s attention swung to the senior agent, brow creasing curiously. “Then why are you?” 

Hotchner’s eyes darted past Jared to Jensen pointedly before returning to Jared. “We have reason to believe that a copy cat killer may be singling you out,” he explained. 

Jared’s eyes widened as he took a stumble step back, his hands grappling at the walker in an attempt to catch himself before he finally got his balance though his heart hammered wildly in his chest, gut clenching as fear gripped him tightly around the throat. 

“There is?” he choked out, swallowing hard afterward. He gave a nod before lowering his gaze, head hanging slightly as he nodded. “I knew it,” he breathed softly. 

“Jare, no, they don’t _know_ that,” Jensen retorted as he stepped up to Jared, reaching for him and grasping his arm in a firm yet gentle hold.

His eyes swung to Hotchner’s and tightened with anger and a muscle twitched in his jaw before he returned his attention to Jared. “Chris is on his way here, he’s gonna hang out with all of us and we’re gonna make sure nothing happens to you,” he assured. 

Jared turned his head, looking into Jensen’s face as he gulped in air through parted lips before returning his attention to Hotchner and swallowing hard once more. “Is - is it because of Harley?” he inquired shakily. 

Hotchner pulled his gaze away from Jared, looking over at Jensen as he heard the man sniff almost pointedly. His lips pulled into a thin firm line as he gazed unflinchingly at Jensen a moment before returning his attention to Jared and speaking, despite the pleading look that had been in Jensen’s eyes and the way he had tried to convey to the agent not to tell Jared any thing more as to why they were there and what was going on. 

“No, Jared, it isn’t because of Harley,” Hotchner murmured. 

Jared’s wide fearful eyes darted questioningly to each member of the team before settling on Hotchner again. “Then…why?” he inquired shakily. 

Hotchner drew in a breath and opened his mouth to speak only to have Jensen cut him off before he could manage to get a word out. 

“It doesn’t matter why,” Jensen interrupted. “The team is here now and they’re not going to let anything happen to you and neither are we,” he promised. 

“Right, Mish?” Jensen asked pointedly as his gaze swung to his friend. 

“Uh, right,” Misha agreed with a nod. “That’s right, Jay, we’re not gonna let anything happen to you, buddy.” 

“See?” Jensen urged gently as he returned his attention to Jared. “There’s nothing to worry about,” he assured. 

Jared slowly tore his eyes away from Jensen and looked back at Hotchner, “If it wasn’t because of Harley, then what was it? What brought you here, Agent Hotchner?” he inquired earnestly. 

Hotchner’s gaze darted briefly to Jensen before returning to Jared with a heavy sigh. “There have been a couple murders in the area,” he began just as earnestly. “Murders that were performed in a similar fashion to the Mangler. However the style is somewhat sloppier and the method is botched at best; normally we wouldn’t have really matched the two together, not at first anyway, but there something else, something that was left at each crime scene that leads us to believe that this unsub may very well be copying the Mangler.” 

Jared’s heart had begun to hammer wildly in his chest with Hotch’s first words about murders in the area and he had to draw in a calming breath, though it truly did nothing to settle his nerves, before attempting to speak. “What…what was there that makes you think that?” he urged hoarsely. 

Hotchner’s lips pulled into a thin line as his gaze unflinchingly met Jared’s, “Your name was found at each of the crime scenes.” 

“Sonvuabitch,” Jensen growled half under his breath as he turned his head to one side, eyes squeezing closed on a grimace. 

The gesture and the words had Danneel’s attention snapping to Jensen, it was a moment when, had the situation not been so tense and serious, she would have pointed out to him that his Dean Winchester was showing. 

Jared turned at the waist, looking incredulously at his lover, “You knew about this?” he accused with pained disbelief. 

Turning his attention to Jared, eyes opening as his head turned, Jensen slowly shook his head, “I didn’t want to worry you,” he explained gently. 

“Worry me?” Jared demanded cynically, huffing with disgust. “What kind of a…” his words trailed off as he glanced at the BAU team briefly before returning his attention to Jensen, “ _friend_ are you?” 

Emily stifled a snort and lowered her gaze, head hanging slightly. This drew Hotchner’s stern attention toward her as he scowled with disapproval. 

Rossi’s eyes darted between the two of them before swinging away to Jared, “Jared, Jensen wasn’t trying to hurt you or keep things from you. He just…” he began gently as he shook his head, “He didn’t want to overwhelm you with all this,” he offered soothingly. 

“But you guys do?” Jared surmised skeptically. 

“Jared, we wanted you to know so that you would be cautious,” Hotchner clarified. “Careful,” he added. 

“We didn’t feel that keeping you in the dark would, in the end, serve to protect you,” he explained. 

“The term forewarned is forearmed or _'praemonitus, praemunitus'_ dates back to the 16th century and could readily be applied here,” Reid spoke up. “We just wanted you to know what’s out there,” he concluded gently. 

Jared scoffed as a harsh smile distorted his features, “Waiting for me,” he surmised with a nod as tears stung the corners of his eyes. 

“He’s not going to stop until I’m dead, is he? He wants me dead just like he killed Genevieve,” he predicted hoarsely as he choked back a sob while taking a stumble step backward and nearly tripping; only his quick grasp of the walker in front of him saved him from hitting the floor. 

Jensen moved swiftly as Jared stumbled, catching his lover in his arms as Jared caught himself with the walker. Misha too started to dash toward Jared, only to come to a staggered halt once he saw that Jensen had Jared wrapped securely in his arms. 

Jensen shook his head, his own eyes shining with unshed tears as he looked into his lover’s face. “No,” he breathed softly. “It’s not Tate, this bastard killing people, it’s not him. Tate is _dead_ ,” he insisted gently. “This isn’t _Supernatural_ , Jare, people don’t come back from the dead at any given moment, I don’t care who the hell they are,” he rasped hoarsely. 

“And whoever this sonofabitch is, he’s not gonna to hurt you. I won’t let him,” he continued venomously through clenched teeth. 

“None of us will, Jay,” Misha offered gently. 

“Which is why we need all of you to leave,” Hotchner cut in. “If there is somewhere else that the three of you can stay for a while until we catch this unsub, it would be better for all of you. After Harley’s death and the way he died, we have reason to believe that the unsub is to blame, that he has found where Jared lives and it will be only a matter of time before he tries for what he really wants.” 

“What?” Jensen inquired, slightly taken aback at the implications. “You’re saying that the bastard has been here, to my house?” 

Hotchner gave a nod, “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

Jared hung his head, his brow against Jensen’s shoulder as he released the walker with one hand and lifted it, curling his fingers into the material of his lover’s sleeve as he squeezed his eyes tightly closed. Jensen tightened his grip on Jared and tucked his own face down against his lover’s in return, his own eyes slipping closed as he nuzzled against Jared, the fact of which causing him to be oblivious to the way Danneel took a step closer to them both, her arms wrapping around herself protectively as she stared in wide eyed horror at the agents. 

“My house,” Misha responded, breaking the tense silence that had filled the room. 

“What?” Jensen inquired as he lifted his head and turned his attention to Misha. 

“My house,” Misha repeated. “You, Danni and Jare can all come stay with me and Vicky, we have the room and together we can better watch out for Jared,” he reasoned. 

Jensen shook his head, “No, no way, we’re not putting you and Vicky in danger like that,” Jensen argued. “Hell, what about West!?” he added outraged at the idea of putting the young boy in that kind of danger. 

Jared nodded, “Jen’s right, man. I appreciate the gesture, but there’s no way that I’m willing to do that to you guys.” 

“Actually, that might not be a bad idea,” Hotchner cut in. “With there being more of you, unless he’s working with someone else, and the evidence doesn’t seem to suggest that, there’s safety in numbers and we can have the police make frequent drives by your place,” he offered. 

Jared turned his attention back to Hotchner, “How - how are you guys planning to catch him?” 

“At the moment we’re not sure,” Hotchner answered honestly. 

“What?” Jared inquired incredulously, shaking his head. “You - you don’t have any leads, any plans on how to catch this asshole?” 

“Garcia is looking into a few things…” Hotchner began only to be cut off. 

“You know what, forget it,” Jared scoffed disgustedly, interrupting Hotchner. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Jensen and Danni can go stay with Mish, but I’m stayin’ right here; use me as bait,” he offered. 

“What?” Jensen responded incredulously. “Are you fuckin’ crazy? You are _not_ Sam Winchester, Jare, you can’t do this!” 

“Actually, with Jared out of the picture, the Ackles’ would likely no longer be in danger,” Hotchner mused. 

“No!” Jensen snapped. “He’s out of his fuckin’ mind, no way, just forget it!”

“Jared, you can’t allow yourself to be bait, what if something happened, what if something went wrong…?” Danneel murmured gently as she shook her head, her eyes gazing pleadingly into Jared’s. 

“Hotch,” Emily murmured, gazing up at him beseechingly as she slowly shook her head. 

“Aaron,” Rossi murmured with a shake of his head and disapproval in his eyes. “There has to be another way.” 

Agent Hotchner gave a tight lipped nod before returning his attention to Jared, “That’s… very commendable of you, Jared, but it would probably be best if you just went somewhere with Jensen and Danneel.” 

Emily breathed a sigh of relief and Rossi gave a nod of approval as he turned his attention back to Jared. “We’re not going to let this guy get away, Jared, but offering yourself up isn’t the answer.” 

“Actually…” Reid began only to be cut off by a stern look from Hotchner. 

Ducking his head, Spencer pressed his lips into a thin line and lowered his gaze with an almost inaudible, “Hmm…” 

“If you’re serious about your offer, Misha,” Rossi began with a nod, “I think that’s a great idea, at least for now and,” he added as he returned his gaze to Jared, “We’ll keep a close watch on the house, make sure you’re all kept safe.” 

Jensen gave a reluctant nod as he sighed in resignation. “Alright,” he agreed, giving Jared a pleading look. 

Jared pressed his lips into a thin line. He didn’t like the idea of putting his friends in danger simply by his being around them; and he didn’t want Misha and Vicky, hell even little West to rearrange their lives for him, but with the BAU seemingly against his offer to help them, to be bait, it appeared as though he had no choice other than to do as they’d suggested and begrudgingly gave a nod of acceptance. 

“Yeah, okay,” he murmured softly.

The BAU team reluctantly left the Ackles’ and Jared to pack in peace after having been assured several times that the three of them would be leaving the house for the safety of the Collins’ place by nightfall. The team had walked out the door along side Misha, Victoria and West, who said they were going to go get the two spear rooms of their home ready for their new guests. 

On their way out, the team and Misha ran into Chris, his black RAM pickup truck squealing tires as it hurriedly pulled into the Ackles’ driveway. Misha and the team had to nearly physically detain Chris so that they could explained what was happening although to say that Chris was displeased that the BAU team had spilled the beans to Jared before he’d arrived was an understatement. He agreed to follow the Collins’ back to their home and help out there; after saying a quick and rather somber hello to Jensen. He stubbornly demanded that he be able to return to the Ackles’ so that he could be there when they sent an officer from the precinct to escort Jensen, Jared and Danneel; after a long battle that got them nowhere, Agent Hotchner resigned to the fact that nothing he could say would turn Chris away from his agenda so he hesitantly agreed. 

The driveway had just cleared as Jensen and Danneel made their way up the stairs to pack. Jared was still unconvinced that this was the best idea, the fact that he was putting everyone he loved in jeopardy, ate at him and had him shaking even more than he had been as far clenching into a tight ball in his gut and released butterflies into his chest. Tear stung his eyes as he tugged at the suitcase that he was pulling out of his closet and flung it down upon the bed. He was terrified; almost as terrified as he’d been lying on that metal slab in the small cellar Tate had held him captive in. 

He paused in packing and lifted a hand to his stomach, pushing it up under his shirt, warm palm sliding along the slightly raised scar there, a memento of his time in the hands of a mad man. 

“Hey, Jare, how’s it goin’?” Danneel asked as she rounded the corner into his room. “You need any help packin’?”

Startled out of his thoughts, Jared’s head snapped to the side as a gasp of breath left him, lips still parted slightly with his breaths as he eyed Danneel standing in his doorway. 

Danneel smiled and pulled away from the wall she’d been leaning against. “Look like you saw a ghost,” she commented as she walked toward him. “What would your fans say?” she mused teasingly, one corner of her lips curving upward more into a wry smile. 

“Come on, I’ll help you pack,” she offered with a jerk of her head toward the dresser that sat to one side of the room. 

“Uh, no,” Jared responded nervously, “No…thanks…I got it.” 

Danneel eyed him worriedly but allowed him his privacy. “Alright,” she agreed reluctantly. “If you’re sure…” 

Jared gave a small nod, “I’m sure,” he promised. “Maybe…Maybe Jensen might want your help,” he suggested. 

Danneel crossed her arms over her chest as she shook her head, lips pressed into a thin bemused line. “Nah, he’s still half packed from comin’ home. He’s done.” 

“What about you?” Jared inquired. 

Danneel shrugged. “It won’t take me long,” she responded before sighing heavily and allowing her arms to fall from across her chest to hang at her sides. 

“If you’re sure you don’t need me, I guess someone ought to clean all that raw food off the grill before we attract a herd of stray do---” her eyes widened as she stopped mid word, a pained look immediately entering her eyes. “Oh, Jare, I’m so sorry,” she apologized as she reached a hand out to squeeze his shoulder. 

“Heh,” the humorless breathy chuckle falling from Jared’s lips as he shook his head and turned it, lowering his gaze to the open suit case. “It’s okay, Danni,” he murmured. “People can’t avoid saying ‘dog’ around me forever,” he reasoned with a shrug. 

Lifting his eyes as he turned his head back, he forced a smile for her. “I’m okay,” he assured despite it being far from the truth. “Go ahead and do what you need to,” he urged. “I’ll be finished her in just a couple minutes.” 

Danneel nodded as she allowed her hand to fall away. “Okay,” she murmured gently. Leaning in, she pressed a tender kiss to his cheek then slowly pulled away and turned heading for the door. At the threshold she paused and looked back over her shoulder. “If you need anything, just yell.” 

Having been watching her go, Jared nodded to her words and offered another tight lipped smile. “I will,” he promised. “And thanks.” 

Nodding, Danneel returned his smile then turned back toward the door and continued on her way out, disappearing around the corner. 

Jared drew in a deep fortifying breath as he turned his attention back to the business at hand. He paused a moment and squeezed his eyes tightly closed in an attempt to center himself somewhat and calm his ragged nerves before starting to pack.

“Danni, where are my golf clubs?” Jensen called from upstairs a second before he began to hurriedly make his way down them in search of his wife. 

“What?” Danneel asked as she walked back into the house, a plate of raw meat in her hands. 

“I need my gulf clubs,” he responded. 

Brow creased in confusion, Danneel chuckled softly as she shook her head and brushed past him headed for the kitchen. “What do you need your golf clubs for?” 

“Well, what if Misha and I want to go play a few rounds of golf?” he countered as he followed after her. 

Whirling around, Danneel looked at her husband quizzically. “Misha plays golf?” he inquired. “Huh… never thought he’d like that kind of thing,” she muttered thoughtfully to herself as she turned back around. 

“Are you all packed?” she inquired as she tossed the meats into the trash, lifting her attention to Jensen once she had finished before turning to place the plate in the sink. 

“Not yet…” Jensen mumbled slightly evasively. 

Danneel chuckled, nodding her head knowingly. “Alright, alright, you finish packing, I’ll go get your golf clubs,” she directed. 

“Go get them?” Jensen asked, pausing as he started to turn around. 

“Yeah, I put them out in the garage,” Danneel replied simply, shrugging her shoulders dismissively. 

“The _garage_!?” he asked incredulously. “Do you _know_ what happens to three thousand dollar golf clubs in a garage!?” 

Danneel only continued to snicker despite her husband’s apparent upset. “Yes, it’s what makes the wives of millions of golf players very happy,” she responded sagely as she closed the distance between them and placed her now empty hands on his hips, tugging him in. 

“They’re fine,” she promised softly. “Now go finish packing,” she instructed before rising on tip to and pressing a kiss to his lips. 

Releasing him, she turned toward the door leading into the garage but paused to look teasingly back over her shoulder at him, having noted that he had yet to budge. “Go,” she urged. “I’ll go get the clubs,” she repeated.

She didn’t turn back until Jensen had nodded and sighed in resignation as he spun around on a heel, heading out of the kitchen and back toward the stairs. Shaking her head with amusement as she walked, Danneel found herself laughing at her husband’s expense all the way out to the door and into the garage. 

Luckily, the Ackles’ garage was almost as organized as most everything else Jensen had a hand in. It was a fact that Danneel had learned about her husband long ago, Jensen Ackles did not like chaos, he liked things neat and orderly and everything with a purpose. It was also one of the things she’d had to fix about her own life having been a rather cluttered person herself before she’d met Jensen. It wasn’t that she wasn’t clean, far from it; she just had a disorganized way of being organized. She would be the girl who had a cluttered desk top, and yet what looked like disorganization and a mess to everyone else, was actually, for her, an organized clutter in which she knew exactly where everything was. 

Stepping inside, she pulled the door closed behind her and reached for the light switch on the wall, illuminating the large two and a half car garage. Her head pivoted as she searched the interior, brow creasing slightly as she tried to remember just where she’d put those darn things the day that she and Jared had been cleaning and picking up the house for Jensen’s immanent arrival. She made a soft tsking sound of frustration and annoyance as she stepped further into the garage and made her way around the large black truck parked inside. 

“Oh come on, it’s a huge bag bustin’ out all over,” she berated herself, rolling her eyes at her husband’s obsession with a game that she found to be totally boring. “It isn’t like it can hide very well,” she muttered half under her breath as she crept carefully back toward the large metal closet that they’d placed inside to keep items in rather than having things sitting out all over the garage. 

Reaching out with one hand she grasped the handle and lifted upward before pulling out, opening the tall door with a semi-loud clatter of jarred metal. Her lips curved into a wide grin as she spotted the bag of clubs resting against the wall of the unit inside. “There you are,” she mumbled as though the clubs could actually hear and understand. 

With a soft chuckle at herself she released the door and reached inside for the clubs, and _that_ was the moment when things went horribly wrong. One minute Danneel was tugging the bag of clubs out of the metal storage unit and the next she found herself gasping with fear as strong arms wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides, causing the bag of clubs to topple over and fall onto its side at her feet. One of the assailant’s hands moved over her mouth, stifling the scream that ripped from her throat as she was dragged backward away from the metal unit despite how she kicked and struggled for freedom. One of her feet kicked the metal door, causing a loud crashing sound to fill the garage and she could only hope that by some miracle either Jensen or Jared heard the commotion. 

She felt another gloved hand move to cup her breast as warm breath fanned against the side of her neck.

“So beautiful,” her assailant’s deep gruff voice purred against her ear. 

Danneel froze for a second, fear swamping her brain and curling into a tight coil in her gut. In the next moment, she remembered all the self defense lessons that her father had insisted she take when she had brought up moving from her home in Louisiana to come try hand at becoming an actress. She lifted a leg and brought her foot back as hard as she could, kicking her attacker in the groin, causing him to double partly over and the groaned growl of pain that tore from the guy’s throat gave her a sick sense of satisfaction as she struggled out of his grasp, jabbing an elbow back, effectively catching her already pained assailant in the ribs. She distracted by the pain she had caused the asshole, Danneel managed to wiggle free and take off at a run toward the garage door. 

“Jensen!” she screamed as she moved, stumble stepping forward and hitting the side of the parked truck as she made her way past the pile of sand bags that they’d used last year to keep the rain out of the garage during some storm or another that they’d had. 

The need to slow a bit in order to keep her balance as she made her way around the truck and to the door leading out of the garage and into the house was enough of a window of opportunity for the attacker to get the upper hand, that Danneel found herself back in harm’s way in no time. 

Despite the pain in his balls from Danneel’s well placed kick, the assailant advanced on her, his hand snaking out and grabbing a fistful of her long auburn hair which he used to roughly yank her back from her escape route. 

“You fuckin’ little _bitch_!” he growled with rage as he flung her into the wooden work bench. 

Her back connected painfully with the sturdy wood, knocking the wind and an agonized cry from her lungs as the pain of the impact sent her body crumpling to the floor. 

Whimpering painfully, Danneel’s sprawled legs slid painfully across the cement floor as she pulled her knees up to her chest in an attempt to ease some of the discomfort she felt. She gulped in air, agony filling her chest with each intake of breath as her head rolled groggily against the floor. Her eyes flew open wide with fear as a second later her assailant, whom she had somehow in her agony forgotten was there, yanked her legs down as he knelt over her and curled both of his hands around her throat, squeezing the life from her body. 

Despite the terror she felt, survival instinct kicked in and had her lifting her own arms, clawing at the man’s masked face, struggling to get away. One of the many swipes of her nailed fingers found home beneath her attacker’s mask and clawed a jagged scratch across his face, the sticky warmth of his blood instantly coating her fingertips. 

“Fuck!” the assailant roared angrily and pulled one hand from her throat, drawing it back and curling his fingers into a tight fist which he brought down hard against her face. 

Her head snapped to the side as a pained squawk left her lips though her attacker didn’t stop there; continuing to punch her, strike after strike until Danneel lay limp and lifeless against the cement floor.

After pulling his suitcase closed and zipping it up, Jensen turned and headed for the stairs leading to the living room with the intent of gathering up his golf bag so he could take it to the jeep; surely Danneel had come in by now but had simply gotten busy with something else, probably babying Jared and packing his clothes for him, that thought had a wide grin curving his lips as he made his way down the stairwell. 

“Danni?” he called as he stepped from the last step. 

His brow creased when she didn’t answer and he moved forward toward the door to Jared’s room, pushing it the rest of the way open which drew Jared’s attention to him. 

Jensen offered his lover a smile as he crossed the distance between them and pressed a kiss to the side of Jared’s neck from behind. “All packed?” he inquired, despite the fact that Jared’s suitcase still lay open on the bed in front of them. 

“Almost,” Jared murmured with a nod. 

Jensen returned the gesture as he pulled his mouth away and took a step back, “Have you seen Danni?” 

Jared frowned thoughtfully as he shook his head, “Not for a while,” he replied gently. “She came in for a minute, but that was a while ago.” 

“Huh,” Jensen breathed curiously, brow creasing yet again with confusion. “She said she was gonna go get my golf clubs from the garage for me, but I didn’t think it’d take her this long.” 

“Maybe she went ahead and took ’em to the jeep?” Jared suggested with a shrug.

“Mm, maybe,” Jensen allowed skeptically. 

It was then that a loud crash from upstairs drew both their wide eyed attention toward the door of Jared’s room before they both took off at a run for the staircase, both of them taking the stairs two at a time. 

“Elta!?” Jensen called as he ran, the anxiety in his voice was mirrored by Jared’s as he called out, “Danni!?” almost simultaneously.

As they reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner into Danneel and Jensen’s bedroom, what they saw had them both of them staring in wide eyed stupefaction, their hearts hammering out a wild tempo against their chests before feeling as though the muscle had dropped into their feet. 

There, lying in the middle of the bedroom floor amongst the shattered shards of glass from the sliding doors lay Danneel’s body, sprawled like a rag doll whose strings had been severed, her clothes tatted and covered in blood. 

“Oh my God,” Jensen breathed before hurrying forward and quickly falling to his knees next to Danneel’s limp form. 

“Danni, baby, come on,” Jensen coaxed as he gently pushed her blood soaked hair back from her face, unshed tears blurring his vision as he struggled to fight back the sob that welled up in his throat. 

Lifting his gaze from his wife, Jensen’s eyes shifted to the seemingly empty balcony before moving swinging away and locking on Jared who stood as though mesmerized by the sight of Danneel held tightly in Jensen’s arms, coated in blood. 

“Call an ambulance!” Jensen commanded gruffly. 

Jared’s heart raced, beating out a terrorized erratic tempo in his chest as another sight, another woman covered in blood, came to Jared’s mind; the memory, the vision, the all encompassing fear held him rooted to the spot in which he stood. 

“Jared!” Jensen snapped angrily. “The phone, _NOW_!” 

A low groan of agony from Danneel drew Jensen’s attention back to her and the tears which he had barely held at bay now slipped free to roll down his cheeks as he gathered her broken body into his arms, holding her close to him as he sniffled softly and brushed the pad of one thumb tenderly across her cheek. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, “it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered brokenly, his voice hoarse and raw with his grief. 

Danneel’s flashes fluttered as she managed to crack open her eyes to mere pained slits. Her lips moved a few times, though no words broke from between them. She pressed them together once more and her throat convulsed as she swallowed and a small sound of the movement of her throat, the effort it took to swallow, broke the absolute silence that had fallen over the room. 

“Run,” she breathed hoarsely as her eyes locked with Jensen’s, the effort it took to push the words past her lips evident in the way her body tensed and her chest heaved. 

Jensen sucked in breaths as his eyes widened and he slowly shook his head in answer, “No,” he breathed brokenly, voice hoarse with his grief, “I’m not leaving you,” he vowed. 

She weakly lifted a hand to his face and cupped it gently as her lips quirked slightly at the corners into a warm smile. Her eyes slowly slipped closed a moment later and her hand fell limply away from her husband’s face as her body went sack in Jensen’s arms. 

“No,” he argued with what his heart and mind were telling him as his wide and tear-filled eyes searched his wife’s blood stained features. “No,” he repeated, rebelling against the very idea that he had lost her. 

He began to suck in breaths too fast as the truth of the matter hit him head on and he found himself hyperventilating, though he didn’t much care, as mind numbing grief curled in his gut and coiled tightly around his heart, strangling the breath from his lungs and closing off his throat, causing him to suck in ragged and uneven gulps of air. 

He dipped his head and buried his face in her hair as his body trembled violently, teeth clenched against the sob that burned in his throat. 

“Elta!!!” 

His choked and anguished cry echoed off the walls as he pulled her body up even closer against his own, rocking her in his arms as tears fell unchecked down his cheeks.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared has been out of the hospital for six weeks and life at Jensen and Danneel’s place is pretty good. Supernatural has gone on without him, as per his request, but Jared still receives fan mail nearly every day. Danneel continues to spoil the hell out of him and what she doesn’t do, Jensen rushes in, when he isn’t on set, and takes care of. Together they’ve managed to give Jared a place where he can feel safe and loved and cared for while he continues to heal and grow stronger both physically as well as emotionally. All things considered, things seem to be going pretty well for Jared Padalecki. That is until a death threat inscribed into the flesh of a murder victim directs the police right back to Jared’s doorstep. It’s then that Agent Hotchner and his team are called back to the City of Angels, where once again they must hunt down a mad man before it’s too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Criminal Minds crossover with the “Supernatural brat pack”. It is a sequel to the fiction entitled **Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder**. A special thanks goes out once again to Jeff Davis for the creation of Criminal Minds, the set up and some of the words used within this fiction. A special thanks also goes out The Mark Gordon Company and CBS Television/ABC Studios. 
> 
> **Please note:** The author has taken liberties with some of the “facts” herein. Also, please be advised that included within this chapter are pictures/images that I created myself as well as tiggeratl1’s banner and grave stone divider.

_"Murder is unique in that it abolishes the party it injures, so that society must take the place of the victim, and on his behalf demand atonement or grant forgiveness."_ ~ W. H. Auden.

Gulping in hiccupped breaths, Jensen slowly lifted his head and his gaze to Jared, who stood exactly where he had, his wide eyed gaze locked on Danneel. The fact that his lover hadn’t even budged to attempt to call for help had Jensen’s teeth clenching with anger. 

“The phone!” he growled loudly, seething with anger, blaming Jared for what had befallen Danneel, some unreasonable part of himself certain that had Jared made that phone call Danneel would not be the limp body in his arms that she was. 

Mouth still slack as it had been the moment they’d stepped into the room, Jared slowly lifted his glazed eyes to Jensen’s and blinked owlishly at him as though he didn’t understand the words, couldn’t comprehend what his lover was asking of him. All Jared could see was another woman, one with long dark hair, her dark silken night gown stained with her own blood as he held her limp body in his arms and wiped away the foam from her full mouth and wept brokenly into the crown of her hair. 

Jensen lowered Danneel’s body back onto the floor and pulled up to his full height, growling with rage he stepped over his wife’s body and charged Jared, intending to knock the stupefied look off his lover’s face only for the closet door to burst open behind him, and a figure to charge them both, the assailant tackling Jensen to the floor. The momentum of Jensen’s initial attack had Jared stumble stepping backward while the second had his back connecting hard with the wall as he watched in wide eyed horror as a dark hooded figure sent Jensen to the floor then loomed over him. His chest heaved with his hyperventilated breaths and the room before him spun, the image of his lover being choked by the intruder blurring before Jared’s eyes. 

Jensen wasn’t exactly sure what had happened, one minute he’d been ready to punch Jared for not helping him with Danneel and the next he found himself flat on his back with a hooded figure over him, the man’s hands at his throat. He crawled and tried to pull the man’s hands away only for the effort to be in vain, that was when he changed tactics and began to pound against the man’s chest and sides, struggling to break free, at least enough so that he could gulp in air. His eyes slid to the side and blurrily focused on Jared who stood stock still and trembling as he stared at him in wide eyed terror. 

“Jare,” he choked out past the burning tightness of his throat from being strangled, begging for his lover to help him as his vision began to grey out at the edges. 

Jared’s eyes darted to Jensen’s reddened face that was quickly turning to purple, every instinct in his body screamed at him to help his lover, to move, to do _something_ only for his body to refuse to cooperate, the mind numbing fear that had gripped him upon finding Danneel seemed to tighten its coils around him, holding his body captive as he trembled and tears filled his eyes, making slow tracks down his cheeks. 

Jensen’s eyes slowly began to roll back in his head, choked grunted gasps of air sounding from his throat as their assailant continued to choke the life out of him. His hands had ceased to punch and slap at the hooded figure above him and instead had lowered his hands to the man’s at his throat, clawing at them as he struggled in vain to pull them from his neck. It wasn’t much longer that Jensen’s eyes slipped completely closed and his body went slack, head rolling slightly to one side, as far as the brutal hands at his throat would allow. 

Jared’s breaths came fast and heavy, sides and chest heaving with them as he stared down in wide eyed horror at his lover’s limp body. He shook his head adamantly against the possibility that Jensen was dead, his mind screaming over and over what he didn’t have the ability to put into words, too terrorized to be able to make his mouth move or push the air past his throat need to form words or sounds. 

_‘No!…No!… Oh God, Jen, no! Jen… Jen… Jensen! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!’_

Jared’s eyes tracked the hooded masked man as he pulled off Jensen and up to his full height; Jared’s bowed head lifting as the man moved. He stared at him in wide eyed horror, sucking in giant gulps of air that had his head spinning as he tried to step back from the man only to smack into the wall at his back. 

“No,” the word was mumbled and nearly incoherent as it fell from Jared’s lips as he watched their attacker advance on him. 

His wide fear-filled eyes were glued to the masked man’s eerie, nearly demonic looking dark ones, only barely visible through the eyeholes of the mask as the man approached. Jared’s gaze darted wildly between his still lover’s form on the floor behind his assailant and the sociopath’s eyes. Somehow, he managed to follow the contour of the wall, his back sliding against it, and make his way out of the corner that he had trapped himself in; while adamantly shaking his head. Jared stumble stepped backward, away from the advancing psychopath, until his back connected with the stair case railing. A strangled cry of anguish broke from his throat as he realized that he had no where else to go. 

In the adrenalin rush of hearing the crash upstairs and fearing for Danneel’s safety, Jared had forgotten all about his walker and had simply ran, but now, in the presence of the masked and hooded man from his nightmares, he found himself unable to move well, his legs weak and uncooperative. Tears continued to make salty tracks down his cheeks; his fear and heart break once again paralyzed him where he stood. 

“Please,” he managed to rasp beseechingly, the sound of it so soft that the word was barely audible at all. 

The psychopath’s lips curled wickedly behind the dark mask as he stepped up to Jared and reached for him with both black gloved hands, which fisted in the material of Jared’s tee eliciting a whimper to break from his throat as he cringed back, leaning as far away from the man as he could, causing his back to arch over the railing as memories of another time and place replayed themselves over and over again in his mind. 

It didn’t take much, just a little shove, to send Jared up and over the railing, falling to the hardwood floor below with a resounding thud. 

Stepping up to the railing the sociopath peered down at Jared, his head tilting slightly to one side, slightly taken aback at just how easy and smoothly everything he’d planned had gone. 

“Like takin’ candy from a baby,” he muttered to himself, his voice muffled slightly behind the mask that he wore. 

Pulling away from the railing, he turned and quickly descended the stairs, rounding the corner as he stepped out the last one and crossed over to Jared’s prone form. He kicked Jared’s side hard enough to jar his body just for good measure to assure himself that Jared was really unconscious and not simply playing possum. 

Crouching down next to Jared’s body, forearms resting on his knees, the psychopath snickered and shook his head disgustedly. “Don’t sleep too long, pretty boy, the party’s just gettin’ started…”

  
  


The ringer of his cell sounded and echoed off the walls of the nearly empty hallway as Agent Derek Morgan walked down the corridor of the Los Angeles Police Department, heading back toward the conference room that they‘d once again been given to conduct their investigation. Reaching into his pocket as he rounded the corner and stepped across the threshold of the large conference room, Derek withdrew the cell from its case and flipped it open as he lifted it to his ear, a small knowing smile teasing at the corners of his lips.

“Hey, baby girl, whatcha got for me?” he answered, already knowing who it was without having to look at the caller ID. 

Penelope smiled on the other end of the line despite the fact that Morgan couldn’t see the gesture. “Well, if you’re alone…” 

“Garcia…” Derek scolded playfully, drawing out her name, his smile now wide enough to cause slight dimples to form in his cheeks. 

Penelope sighed with exaggerated longing, her own smile having grown wider with Derek’s gentle chastisement. “Okay, so I’ve been searching all over the internet and it seems as though this guy’s finding his vics some where else, because there is nothing to link him to Justin Bartha, his girlfriend or Chris Hemsworth. Nothing on Twitter or Face Book or anywhere else. And it also seems that our new guy isn’t into sharing what he does like the Mangler did, there is no evidence of any kind of video footage anywhere on the net,” she explained. 

Derek sighed heavily in disgust. “Do you have any good news for me?” he inquired. 

“Actually, I might,” she responded. “Hotch said to look up any kind of family that Tate might have or anyone that might want to take up where he left off. So I did a background search the way only _I_ can and although there is really no actual family to speak, I did find a girlfriend; they were together it looks like, from nineteen eighty two until nineteen ninety when she filed a police report on him and he had two charges of domestic violence added to his record as well as drug solicitation. Not that those were the only things on there before that, looks like he had quite a few small charges against him as well as grand larceny, a DUI and an assault and battery charge.” 

“Oh so Tate had always been a charming guy,” Derek deduced sarcastically. 

“Sure looks that way, sweetie,” Penelope confirmed. 

“You got a name of the girlfriend?” he inquired as he stepped over to the large conference table and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. 

“Of course,” Garcia responded with a wide grin. “Got an address too.” 

“Aw, you’re _beautiful_!” Derek praised. “Alright, lay it on me, gorgeous,” he continued as he held pen to paper. 

“Her name is Renee Hertzog,” Penelope began, pausing to allow Derek time to write. “And the address I have for her is 1512 Nottingham Drive in south Hollywood.” 

“Mmm,” Agent Morgan hummed. “Tough neighborhood,” he commented half under his breath. 

“Good luck, darlin’,” Garcia responded. “And hey, be careful.” 

Derek’s lips curved into a wide grin. “I will, baby girl,” he promised. “And thanks,” he added. 

“You got it,” Penelope replied before disconnecting the line. 

Derek flipped his cell closed and ripped the sheet of paper on which he had written the information Garcia had given him from its tablet. Folding the slip of paper in half, he turned and headed back out of the conference room, toward the main doors leading out of the station.

Entering the station with the others trailing behind him, Agent Hotchner stopped at the front desk just as Captain Newberry was exiting his office.

“Jared Padalecki and his…” Aaron began only to pause as he searched for the proper term to use. “ _Friends_ are relocating to the Collins residence, they’re packing now. Can you send a few of your men to escort them out there?” 

“Sure, anything you need,” Newberry replied with a cut nod. 

“Good,” Hotch responded. “Also, if I can get a car to patrol the area of the Collins place, about every hour once Jared is out there, that would help.” 

Captain Newberry nodded, “Consider it done.” 

Hotchner nodded and started to head down the hall only to spot Agent Morgan walking past and heading for the door. 

“Derek,” Hotch called out, “Where are you going?’

“Garcia found an old girlfriend of Tate’s; I’m on my way to check it out.” 

Hotchner nodded, “Take Prentiss and Reid with you,” he directed. 

Agent Morgan’s gaze swung away from Agent Hotchner and over to Prentiss and Reid, “You heard the man,” he muttered with a shrug of one shoulder and a jerk of his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”

To say that Renee Hertzog lived in a bad neighborhood in a small ramshackle house would have been an understatement. It was hard to tell what color the exterior had once been due to the fact that what parts of the paint that weren’t weather beaten or covered in graffiti were peeling and nearly chipped nearly away.

Parking the shiny black Bronco out front seemed to draw more attention than any of the agents would have liked, all three of them surveying the area around them and noting all those around them that stood watching as they stepped out of the vehicle. 

Clearing his throat, his head down, Reid stepped around the vehicle along with Prentiss, both of whom closed the distance between themselves and Morgan as they approached the door to the ramshackle home falling in step beside him. 

“Guess we won’t be a surprise,” Prentiss commented as the stopped at the door and she looked around them, eyeing those that were eyeing them. 

“Yeah, looks like we’re stickin’ out like a sore thumb around here,” Morgan agreed as he lifted a fisted hand and knocked at the cracked old wooden door. 

“Yes?” a muffled female voice called from inside. “What do you want?” 

Morgan glanced over at Prentiss with a heavy sigh before clearing his throat. “We’d like a word with you, if you don’t mind,” he called back. 

“Seems to me like she does,” Prentiss remarked half under her breath. 

“You’re tellin’ me,” Morgan agreed with a lift of his brows. 

There was a long silence, to the point that Morgan raised his hand again and was about to knock once more only to have the door crack open, a chain connecting it to the interior wall held the door firmly in place to only that small opening as a woman with dirty blond hair peered out at them. 

“What do you want?” she repeated her earlier question, eyeing both Morgan and Prentiss before her gaze looked past them both at Reid. 

“Uh, hello, Ms. Hertzog?” Derek began, “I’m Agent Morgan, this is Agent Prentiss and Doctor Spencer Reid, we’re from the FBI’s behavior analysis unit, if you don’t mind, ma’am we’d like to ask you a few questions about Albert Tate.” 

Renee Hertzog’s gaze darted back and locked with Morgan’s, her eyes searching his for a long moment. Her eyes darted past him suddenly, seemingly searching the area somewhere over his shoulder before she once more returned once more to his. 

“Is there anyone else out there with you?” she inquired, her voiced hushed to a near whisper. 

Morgan shook his head before glancing back at Prentiss who also shook her head. 

“No, ma’am it’s just us,” Agent Prentiss spoke up. 

Ms. Hertzog’s eyes met and held Agent Morgan’s again as she stood there a long moment, her brow creased thoughtfully. 

“It’s just us,” he repeated assuringly. 

Renee finally nodded, “Give me a second,” she muttered before the door slammed closed in their faces. 

Morgan turned at the waist and looked back over his shoulder at Prentiss and Reid, heaving a heavy sigh as he lifted his brows. 

“Well, at least it seems she’s gonna talk to us,” Prentiss allowed. 

The sound of the heavy door chain moving and the doorknob turning drew Derek’s attention back around a moment before the door opened. Stepping back far enough to allow the agents to enter, Renee Hertzog muttered a soft, “Come in,” with her head hanging, causing her dirty blond, unruly hair to half conceal her face from view. 

Agent Morgan glanced back over his shoulder at his partners before turning back once more and starting forward, through the open door way and into the small house that wasn’t in much better condition inside than it was outside. 

“Have a seat,” Renee invited as the agents made their way into the house, waving of one hand flippantly toward a lumpy brick red couch that had obviously seen better days. 

“Thank you,” Prentiss murmured as she passed the woman, Reid offering her a small tentative smile and a nod as he stepped by. 

Agent Morgan stepped over to the sofa and took a seat on one end, leaving room for Prentiss and Reid to join him. As the other agents took their seats, they lifted their gazes to her, watching as Renee closed the door, turning each of the multiple locks before turning back around and offering them a shy nervous smile. 

“Not exactly the safest area,” she mumbled softly before ducking her head embarrassedly as she crossed the room to an old wooden rocking chair that held an equally old crocheted blanket. 

She pulled the blanket from behind her and used it to cover her bare legs, her old and threadbare cornflower blue house dress ending just below her knees. Lifting her attention to the agents she offered them a slight smile before clearing her throat. 

“So how can I help?” she inquired as her bright blue gaze, sharper and more lucid than one would have believed it to be, moved to each agent in turn. 

“We know that you were Tate’s girlfriend,” Prentiss began. “Back in…nineteen eighty-two until…nineteen ninety wasn’t it?” 

Renee’s lips pursed in displeasure as she looked away with a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I was with the despicable mean snake in the grass,” she admitted with a nod as she returned her attention to the Agent Prentiss. 

“Records say that you had him charged with assault and battery…” Morgan posed. 

Renee nodded again, “Yes, I did. Son of a bitch broke my collarbone, my arm and cracked three ribs,” she responded with disgust as she lowered her gaze and allowed her head to hang forward slightly. 

“We’re very sorry,” Reid offered gently. 

“Yeah, well he wasn’t,” Renee snorted with a frown of contempt. “Think he would have killed me if he’d had the chance,” she commented as she lifted her eyes back to the agents. 

Reid turned his attention to Morgan and the two of them exchanged a look before Agent Morgan turned his attention back to the woman sitting across from them. 

“Miss Hertzog, did you hear about his death?” he inquired gently. 

Sighing heavily, Renee nodded. “As much as I knew he wasn’t no good, I didn’t wish him any ill will,” she murmured. 

“Ya know what I mean?” she asked with a lift of her bushy, Brooke Shields type, brows, their hue darker than that of her hair. “I just don’t have it in me to be like that I reckon,” he murmured almost to herself as she lowered her attention to the blanket on her lap, picking at the worn yarn. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Reid allowed gently. “Did you, by any chance, hear how it happened?” he urged. 

Lifting her head and her eyes to Reid, Renee studied his features a moment before nodding. “Yeah,” she responded on a near whisper. “Sorry for that poor girl he kilt,” she muttered with a sad shake of her head. “I heard she was an actress too,” she added as she lifted her gaze again, her brow creased with anguish. 

“Uh, yes ma’am,” Morgan interjected. “She, uh, wasn’t the first, there were others…men, that he had killed and raped,” he explained. “And one man that he had kidnapped but got away,” he said, pausing briefly before continuing. “We managed to find him in time.” 

“Which is when you all shot him dead,” she concluded. “To save that boy?” she mused, her gaze searching each of the agent’s eyes in turn. 

“Uh, yes ma’am, that’s correct,” Reid confirmed, pressing his lips into a tight firm line after ward as his own gaze lowered. 

Renee nodded, “Good, least he didn’t get to kill on’a them,” she surmised with a satisfied nod as she turned her head and gazed off toward the kitchen. 

“He was… he was that fella on that TV show wasn’t he?” she inquired as she turned her attention back to the agents before her. 

“Uh, yes ma’am, _Supernatural_ ,” Prentiss confirmed with a curt nod. 

Renee shook her head as her brow creased thoughtfully, “Never seen that show,” she mused softly, again the words almost spoken to herself. 

“We have reason to believe that someone may be trying to continue where Tate left off,” Prentiss continued. 

Her words drew Renee’s sharp attention back to her. “No,” she replied firmly before shaking her head. “It isn’t possible. There’s no one that would have cared,” she explained. “And why would they? He was a terrible person!” 

She shook her head and lowered her gaze, her eyes widening as she seemed to be seeing something no one else in the room was privy to. “Once,” she mumbled with a nod. “Once, when I first met him,” she continued, her lips curving upward into a fond smile. “There was a time, once, when he was…oh…” she murmured as she lifted her head and leaned it back against the back of the rocker, shaking it slightly. 

“He was so charming and handsome…” she mused. “But,” she said, sighing heavily. “That was a long time ago… a lifetime…” she concluded, once more staring away into nothingness. 

Prentiss glanced over at Morgan before looking back at Renee, “When you left him,” she began. “Was it just because he hit you?” she inquired, knowing from experience that it usually was something more that drove victims of domestic violence to finally leave their abusers. 

Renee’s gaze met Emily Prentiss’ dark one and for a long moment she didn’t speak. Finally, she tore her gaze away, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “No,” she confided in a choked whisper. 

“I was four months pregnant the first time that Al beat me bloody,” she confessed. “The second time was when I was due to have the baby and the last was the night of Jeremy’s first birthday,” she choked out, her voice breaking as the first tear trickled down her cheek. 

Prentiss eyes widened as she turned her attention to Morgan and Reid, all of them looking stunned to hear that Albert Tate had a son. Returning their attention to Renee, Morgan spoke up. 

“What happened to Jeremy?” he coaxed gently. 

Renee sniffled, “I gave him up for adoption,” she confided and slowly turned her attention back to the agents. “Oh I tried to take care of him, but…” she continued with a shake of her head, lips pressing into a thin line as she sniffled again, the tip of her nose a rosy pink from her tears. 

“I was a drop out, I had no money, no job, just a baby and two mouths to feed,” she mused. “I couldn’t care for him,” she concluded with a dejected shake of her head. 

She choked back a sob as she looked away once more. “It was near Christmas and I wanted him to have one, a good one this time. So for his second Christmas, I bundled him up as best I could to keep him warm and took him to the fire station near the richer section of town and left him there on the door step. I watched from the bushes, made sure that someone came and got him,” she said with a nod to her own words. She sniffled and a sad smile curved her lips. “He was a strong looking man, with a kind face. I watched him gently pick Jeremy up and carry him inside.” She paused to sniffle again before adding, “And then I left….and never looked back.” 

“So you…have no idea where Jeremy is now?” Prentiss urged gently. 

Renee’s eyes snapped back to Agent Prentiss as she shook her head. “No,” she responded before her brow creased with curious confusion. “Why?”

“Garcia,” Morgan greeted as he drove the midnight hued bronco down the road, headed back to the police station.

“Yeah, darlin’ what can I do for ya?” she responded, a smile in her voice. 

“I need you to dig up some records for me, all the adoptions that occurred in nineteen ninety one in and around Hollywood,” he directed. 

“Ah baby cakes, that’s not gonna be easy…” she muttered with a heavy sigh. 

“Well, maybe the fact that the kid was two when he was taken to the fire station and left on their front step will help?” he added hopefully. 

“Well that does narrow it down a bit,” Penelope agreed, her fingers flying over the keyboard in front of her. 

“Gimme a bit and I’ll see what I can fine,” she concluded. 

“You got it,” Derek agreed. “And hey,” he added gently. “Hurry for me, baby girl.” 

“I will,” Garcia promised just before the line went dead. 

Pulling the cell away from his ear, Derek glanced down at it briefly as he drove and pushed the pre-dial button that would automatically connect him with Hotchner’s phone. 

“Hey, Hotch,” Agent Morgan greeted when the line was answered on the second ring. 

“Seems Albert Tate had a son, he was given up for adoption, I have Garcia checkin’ out adoption papers,” he explained. 

“Good, when will you be back here?” Agent Hotchner inquired. 

“We’re on our way,” Derek replied before pulling the phone from his ear and closing it. 

Slipping the cell back into his pocket, he glanced over at Emily with whom he exchanged a look with, knowing exactly what she was thinking, that somehow Jeremy Tate had learned who his father was and was following in Daddy’s footsteps. Question was, why?

The darkly clad assailant sighed heavily as he pulled to his feet after securing the ropes that bound Jared to the chair in the kitchen of Jensen and Danneel Ackles’ home. He stepped around Jared’s chair to sneer down at his still unconscious form, his other two victims lined up alongside Jared, both bound to the chairs in which they sat, and both of them still unconscious.

Blood coated Danneel’s body and slicked her long auburn locks to her head in matted strings, her face awash with both new and dried blood as the wounds she sustained from her trip through the plate glass of the sliding doors upstairs continued to seep blood. 

Jensen’s eye had already begun to swell and the skin around it had become a grotesque shade of purple, along with the perfect knuckle print along the side of his jaw. The cut on his lip shimmered as it oozed blood though a thick dark crimson clot also marred the otherwise smooth perfection of the pink voluptuous flesh. 

The sociopath walked over to the bar that sat along one side of the kitchen area and grabbed a bottle of bourbon, pulling one of the crystal decanters out of the glass rack. His eyes remained on the trio, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he opened the bottle and poured himself a glass. Without setting down the bottle, he lifted the full glass to his lips and knocked back a good amount as he walked back toward his prisoners, his eyes never leaving them even as he drank. Pulling the glass down from his lips, the contents nearly gone as he stood in front of Jared’s limp form. A smirk tugged at his lips as he shook his head, his gaze roaming over the unconscious man before him. 

“Always said Sam Winchester was a pussy,” he drawled thickly. 

His arm shot out and he flung the remains of his drink in Jared’s face, “Wake up, _Sunshine_ ,” he called contemptuously. “Can’t get this party started without the guest of honor!” 

He watched as Jared’s head bobbed a moment, a low pained groan breaking from Jared’s throat as consciousness slowly returned to him. He sucked in an audible fearful gasp of breath as memories of what had happened before rushed through his mind. His eyes opened wide and his head snapped up to meet those nearly hidden behind the black mask that he knew all too well, that still haunted his dreams. 

The psychopath smiled contemptuously behind the mask. It was a shame that Jared was unable to see the gesture and it was that thought that had the mad man turning slightly at the waist to all but slam the now empty glass down on the counter, the resounding boom of it causing Jensen to stir. 

Turning his attention back to Jared, the sociopath reached up with one hand and flipped the dark hood back and then reached for the mask, pulling it up and off his face, tossing it aside carelessly before leaning in so he was eyes to eye with Jared, his face in Jared’s. 

“I’m gonna filet you open like a fish and gut you like just like I did your dog,” he softly sneered. 

Jared’s heart hammered in his chest, visions of Harley’s gutted dead body hovering in his minds eyes as he stared into his attacker’s face. His breaths came in heavy fearful pants from between his parted lips and his body tensed with terror. 

“Please…” Jared breathed, the word spoken so quietly it would have been hard to hear had the assailant not been in his face. 

The guy snickered wickedly at Jared’s plea. “Is that what my father said just before they killed him?” he snarled softly. 

His lips turned upward into an amused grin as he moved one hand down to his waist band and withdrew the knife he carried from its sheath. Lifting it toward Jared’s face he chuckled at the way Jared tried to pull back, his eyes round saucers filled with terror. He lowered his gaze and watched as he tapped the blade against Jared’s scared cheek before lifting his eyes to Jared’s. 

“Is that my father’s handy work?” he mused with another soft wicked chuckle. 

When Jared didn’t answer, his heart hammering so hard in his chest he had a hard time catching his breath enough to answer, the psychopath shrugged a shoulder and slowly pulled the blade of the knife away, lowering it and slipping it back into its sheath.

“Doesn’t matter,” he murmured dismissively. “Oh and by the way,” the sociopath began before he began to pull back up to his full height. “Just so ya know, your dog was still alive when I started guttin’ him,” he mentioned with cruel flippantness as he shrugged a shoulder. 

Now standing at his full height, he reached back behind him toward the counter top bar and grasped the bottle of bourbon in his hand. “Did you know I was adopted?” he inquired conversationally as he moved forward and began to walk around the chair Jared was bound in. 

Jensen sucked in a breath and his head snapped up, his green eyes darting as he took in his surroundings. His head turned and he first noted Danneel bound to the chair to his right. His brow creased with concern for her though the fact that she was actually bound there rather than left back on the floor of the bedroom gave him hope that she was alive. The next thing he noted was the sound of a voice he didn’t know to his left and it had him turning his head to locate its owner, that was when he saw Jared with their assailant. 

The psychopath nodded to his own words as he tipped the bottle and began to pour the bourbon over Jared’s head, his hair matting to his head as the liquor saturated it. 

Jensen tugged at the ropes that held him immobile, struggling to find a way free while he sat silently watching the show that their attacker was putting on as he teased and tormented Jared. 

“My foster dad was a good man, a fireman,” the mad man went on as he continued to douse Jared with the alcoholic beverage. 

Their assailant came around to the front of Jared after having made his way around Jared’s chair three times, the bottle now empty. He crouched in front of Jared as he dug into the pocket of his black jeans and pulled out a lighter. 

“He taught me a lot about fire,” the sociopath confessed as he lit the lighter, holding it mere inches from Jared’s face. 

“That alcohol that’s on you,” he said with a nod of his head toward Jared, “it’s all it’d take to set you a blaze,” he remarked matter-of-factly, his voice soft with amusement. 

Tears filled Jared’s eyes, some spilling over to roll slowly down his cheeks as he stared in wide eyed terror at the flame in the mad man’s hand and slowly shook his head, lips and chin quivering. 

“No,” he breathed out a whisper. “Please don’t…” 

“Don’t you fuckin’ touch him,” Jensen sneered. 

He’d remained silent until now, struggling against the ropes that held him immobile but now, the absolute terror in Jared’s eyes, his tears and with what the maniac was implying, he found he could no longer bite his tongue. 

Their attacker’s attention snapped to Jensen and he allowed the lighter’s flame to extinguish itself as he released pressure against it and pulled to his feet with a chuckle. 

“Dean Winchester,” he chuckled, nodding his head as he crossed the distance between himself and Jensen. “Yeah, I like you, you got that _fire_ in you, always taken care’a that pansy ass little brother over here,” he continued with a jerk of his head back toward Jared. 

He crouched as he withdrew the knife once more from its sheath, “But that mouth,” he murmured softly as he raised it to the side of Jensen’s neck. “It’s gonna be the death of you…”

Chris airplaned West into the kitchen where Misha was standing, making room in the ice box for more food since they’d need it with houseguests coming.

“Hey,” Misha chuckled as he turned his attention to his son who was in the process of flying though the air like Superman via Chris who held onto him and flew him about the room, much to West’s enjoyment and loud cackles of laughter. 

“Hey, what time is it?” Chris inquired as he landed West on the counter, turning his attention from the child in his arms to Misha. 

“Uh, I dunno, probably near seven,” Misha responded with a concerned frown. 

“Shouldn’t the cops have called to say they were heading over to Jen’s place?” Chris inquired. 

“I thought so,” Misha agreed as he closed the freezer and turned heading for the telephone. 

The police had made a deal with Chris that they would call when they were on their way to escort Jensen and the others over so he could make his way over to the house before they arrived and see Jensen and the others out, make sure for himself that they were alright. However, things had been quiet, too quiet. 

Picking up the telephone receiver, Misha dialed Jensen’s number first intending to ask him if the police had shown up yet and had simply neglected to call and let them know. 

When there was no answer he hung the phone back up and glanced toward Chris while dialing the number that the officers had given him in case there were any problems between their scheduled drive bys of the property. 

“Jen didn’t answer so I’m calling the station,” he muttered.

Agent Hotchner answered the call on the first ring. 

“Hey, Hotch, this is Misha Collins, I was just calling in regards to Jensen and his family,” he responded to the agents ‘hello’. 

“We haven’t heard anything and we were just getting worried,” he explained. 

“Agent Morgan found a lead, it just put us back a bit, someone will be there within the hour,” Hotchner replied. 

“Oh okay, great, thanks,” Misha murmured, his smile in his voice. 

Hanging up the telephone, Misha turned to Chris. “Hotch said they got a lead and it’s what’s keeping them but they’d be by Jen’s within the hour.” 

Chris frowned, his brow creasing with concern. “So why didn’t Jen answer the phone?” he mused. 

Misha shrugged a shoulder, “Maybe he was outside loading the car?” he suggested with a one shouldered shrug. 

“Well,” Chris grunted as he and picked up West again and gently deposited the boy onto the floor at his feet, “I’m gonna head over there just to be sure, and help Jen pack up the cars,” he responded. 

“Yeah,” Misha responded, his brows shooting up a moment later, “Hey,” he continued thoughtfully, his brow creased, “Lemme go with you.” 

Chris shrugged a shoulder, “Fine by me.” 

Misha nodded, “Vic, honey!” he called as he bent and picked up West, carrying the boy into the living room with him as Chris followed along behind him. 

“Yeah?” Victoria asked as she walked out of the spare bedroom and into the living room, her dark brows lifted curiously. 

“Hey, Chris and I are gonna head over to Jen’s, give him a hand loading the cars and…” he gave a shrug. 

“And seeing for yourself that they’re okay,” Vicky finished for him with a smile as she nodded. 

“Alright, that’s fine,” she responded as she put her arms out toward West, watching as the boy walked toward her. 

“Teresa and I got West, “ she assured. 

Misha smiled and cross the distance between himself and his wife, pressing a kiss to her temple as he wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a light squeeze. “Thanks,” he murmured before pulling away and turning back toward Chris and the front door. 

“Let’s go,” he said with a nod toward the door. 

Chris smiled and gave a nod toward Vicky, “We’ll be back soon,” he promised. 

Vicky nodded as she watched the two men walk out the door before lowering his gaze to West.

“Do you think Daddy will be back soon?” she asked cheerfully with a shake of her head to which West shook his head too causing Vicky to chuckle. “Yeah, me either,” she agreed as she held out a hand for her son to take. 

“Come on, handsome, let’s go finish making the beds,” she suggested as she turned and headed back into the spare room.

  
  


The sociopath slowly drew his attention away from the phone that hung on the kitchen wall as it finally stopped ringing. The noise seemed to thankfully stir Danneel from her unconscious state. Her head bobbed groggily as pained groans broke from her throat. However it was, in that moment with his concerned attention fixed solely on her, it was the most beautiful sound that Jensen had ever heard. So much so that he sucked in a started breath and his head jerked forward, tearing his gaze from his wife to stare up at the man when the sociopath spoke again.

“Now where were we?” their assailant inquired with a malicious grin. 

“Oh right, you were telling me what to do,” he responded, his voice far too friendly sounding to be real as he leaned over Jensen, his face in Jensen’s, the knuckles of his hand holding the knife turning white with his hard grip. 

Jensen’s gaze darted to the hand that held the knife dangerously close to his side before moving back to meet his assailant’s though he remained silent as they stared at one another. 

After another moment, just length span of a heartbeat and the bastard lifted the blade, slamming it down into Jensen’s thigh. Jensen’s eyes squeezed closed and his head shot back as he grit his teeth against the pain a long strangled sound of agony ripping from his throat. 

“I don’t _like_ to be told what to do!” the mad man roared in Jensen’s pain filled face. 

“Jensen!” Danneel’s pain laced voice sounded from beside him. 

The sociopath jerked the knife back out of Jensen’s thigh and turned his attention to Danneel, his lips curled into a malevolent sneer. 

“Well look whose back,” he rasped softly. “The little whore who didn’t want to play,” he continued as he turned and crossed the distance between himself and Danneel. 

Jensen panted his breaths, trying to rein get a handle on the amount of pain that ran though his body as blood shot from the wound with every beat of his heart. His eyes were still squeezed closed, his teeth clenched tightly together and nostrils flared with each of his panted breaths. 

“Leave her alone,” he ground out from between his teeth. 

Tears streamed down Danneel’s cheeks as her attention was drawn away from her husband and to the mad man in front of her as he crouched down. “Please, just leave us alone,” she cried softly. 

The psychopath shook his head, “Can’t,” he murmured and reached up with his free hand to cup her breast. 

“Don’t fuckin’ touch her!” Jensen roared as he pried his eyes open and looked over. 

The sociopath lifted his blade to Danneel’s throat without moving his other hand, “Tell your boy there to shut his fuckin’ mouth or he’s gonna get you killed,” he murmured softly. 

“Jensen, just…be….quiet,” she hiccupped between soft sobs. 

“Good girl,” the mad man cooed, shushing her as he leaned in and captured her mouth with his own. 

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Jensen growled, his lips curved into a sneer of hatred. 

“Stop, just stop,” Jared murmured brokenly, his own face wet with tear streaks. 

Danneel bit the son of a bitches tongue as it swept into her mouth eliciting a painful howl to leave the psychopath as he ripped his mouth away. Pulling to his full height, his hand leaving her breast and knife pulling from her throat, he pulled back the hand clutching the hilt of the knife and punched Danneel, then did it again in quick succession. 

“Fucking bitch!” he snarled as her head snapped to the side and pained cries broke from her lips. 

“Stop!” Jared shouted. “Just stop! It’s me you want, fuckin’ kill me!” 

The maniac paused in his actions and turned his attention to Jared, a slow cruel smile curling his lips. 

“Oh don’t worry, I plan to,” he assured as he turned and began to make his way toward Jared. 

Reaching his goal he crouched down in front of Jared and lifted his hand that held the knife, running the blade lightly against Jared‘s scarred cheek. 

“Nice and slow,” he murmured continuing to dragged the blade across Jared’s flesh. “Nice and slow…”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared has been out of the hospital for six weeks and life at Jensen and Danneel’s place is pretty good. Supernatural has gone on without him, as per his request, but Jared still receives fan mail nearly every day. Danneel continues to spoil the hell out of him and what she doesn’t do, Jensen rushes in, when he isn’t on set, and takes care of. Together they’ve managed to give Jared a place where he can feel safe and loved and cared for while he continues to heal and grow stronger both physically as well as emotionally. All things considered, things seem to be going pretty well for Jared Padalecki. That is until a death threat inscribed into the flesh of a murder victim directs the police right back to Jared’s doorstep. It’s then that Agent Hotchner and his team are called back to the City of Angels, where once again they must hunt down a mad man before it’s too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Criminal Minds crossover with the “Supernatural brat pack”. It is a sequel to the fiction entitled **Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder**. A special thanks goes out once again to Jeff Davis for the creation of Criminal Minds, the set up and some of the words used within this fiction. A special thanks also goes out The Mark Gordon Company and CBS Television/ABC Studios. 
> 
> **Please note:** The author has taken liberties with some of the “facts” herein. Also, please be advised that included within this chapter are pictures/images that I created myself as well as tiggeratl1’s banner and grave stone divider.

_"With foxes, we must play the fox."_ ~ Thomas Fuller

Pulling into the driveway of the Ackles’ home, Chris turned his head and his attention to Misha. 

“This seem a little off to you?” he inquired with a quirk of his brow. 

Misha glanced from Chris to the home and back, “What exactly?” 

Chris sighed in exasperation as he turned his attention back to the house. “Well like the fact that three people moving out of a house for a while usually looks a little more….I dunno… _busy_ ,” he responded. 

“Perhaps they’re taking a break?” Misha suggested. 

Chris pressed his lips together thoughtfully as he eyed the house while reaching for the automobile’s door handle, “Yeah, maybe,” he allowed skeptically, brow still knitted with concern. 

“Come on,” he directed as he shouldered open the door to his dark hued Dodge truck and pulled from behind the wheel, his gaze remaining fixed on the seemingly silent house. 

Misha glanced from the Ackles’ home to Chris and back before shouldering open his own door, with his gaze locked on the dark and overly still house, he climbed from inside the truck and stood to his feet beside it. 

Closing the automobile’s door, he looked across it at Chris. “You think maybe we oughtta go around back and have a look?” he suggested. 

Chris gave a nod. “I’ll head around back, you go to the door and knock,” he directed. “Hopefully it’s nothin’,” he murmured almost to himself as he returned his gaze to the house and started forward. 

The two of them crisscrossed one another as Misha headed for the front door and Chris jogged around to the back of the house, jumping the small fence that the Ackles’ had previously had open when they’d had the Collins’ over for the barbeque, but was now locked up tight. 

Stepping up to the door, Misha leaned back slightly and attempted to look in through one of the windows that lined each side of the front door, brow creasing as he struggled to peer in through the gossamer thin drapes. Unfortunately however, he wasn’t able to see much of anything inside the home, only that the front living room lights were off rather than on the way they usually were especially with it being twilight, the sky rapidly darkening into night. 

Straightening, he lifted a hand as he curved it into a loose fist and knocked at the door, the same knock he usually gave, rather than ringing the door bell, to the tune of _‘Shave and a Haircut’_. 

He frowned when after a few minutes there were no sounds of movement inside and no one came to the door, nor did any of the lights turn on inside. The hope that they were all just busy in their respective bedrooms packing up their belongings soon flew the coop and left Misha creasing his brow once more, this time in concern. 

In a gesture that was unlike him, he actually moved his hand to the door bell, index finger pushing the small white disk. Although the chimes sounded, loud enough to be heard outside the door by him, still there was no answer from inside. Frowning deeply, Misha turned away from the door and walked back toward the truck as though he were leaving, but withdrew his cell phone from his pocket on the way and dialed Chris’ number.

Crouching low, Chris snuck in close to the house then moved toward the sliding glass door. The slat drapery was closed but thankfully the slats themselves were still partly open allowing Chris, once he was close enough, to peer inside. 

Ducked low, Chris hurried toward the wall beside the glass doors and once he reached it, pulled to his full height, back flat against the stucco. He inched closer to the sliding doors and turned his head, taking a quick glimpse around the corner and into the darkened house. His brow creased with aggravated worry when he was unable to make out anything through the slatted drapes other than the darkened living room that sat as still as the grave. 

He could hear the door bell ringing from where he stood outside and yet, there was still no movement inside the house, no calls of ‘Coming!’ or lights being turned on, nor the sound of feet hurrying through the house. 

“Shit!” he swore suddenly though he at least had the forethought to keep the exclamation softly spoken. 

He hurriedly searched his person for his cell phone, the ringing of which, abruptly drew his attention away from the house and the lack of activity inside. 

“Hello,” he hissed quietly into the phone once he’d located it and flipped it open, holding it to his ear as he frowned with irritation. 

“Chris, no one is answering the door, I think maybe you’re right,” Misha responded almost as quietly on the other end of the line. 

“No shit, what was your first clue?” Chris spat, his voice hushed. 

Misha frowned and opened his mouth to answer only to snap it shut as Chris continued. 

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Chris whispered. “Come around back, I’ll unlock the fence.” 

“Okay,” Misha agreed as he turned, glancing at the house as he moved. “Wait, how’d you get back there?”

“I hopped it,” Chris answered flippantly with a careless shrug that Misha couldn’t see. 

“I could hop it,” Misha offered. 

Chris chuckled softly, “Yeah, I’d like to see that,” he mused, an amused smile curving his lips. 

There was dead silence on the phone for a long moment and Chris found himself wondering just what the hell had happened. “Misha,” he called in a hushed tone into the phone, brow creasing once more with anxiety. “Hey, Mish, you there?”

“I’m right here,” Misha answered matter-of-factly as he walked around the corner of the house. 

Chris nearly jumped out of his skin before reaching out with his free hand to grab hold of Misha’s dark blue hoodie and drag him over against the wall with him. 

“How the hell’d you get back here?” Chris demanded quietly as he closed his cell and stuffed it back into the pocket of his brown leather jacket. 

A soft grunt left Misha as his side connected with the hard stucco wall. “I hopped the fence,” he replied with a shrug. “What, you think that I can’t hop a fence?” 

Chris glared darkly. “Let’s not get into you and fence hopping,” he mumbled as he eyed Misha up and down. 

Misha ignored the comment, his attention focused on the house, eyes narrowed and jaw tense. 

Chris eyed him a moment before glancing at the house and returning his attention to Misha, his brow creased with confusion and incredulousness as he eyed the dark tousled haired actor beside him. “What the hell are you doing?” he inquired. “You look constipated.” 

Misha lowered his attention to Chris, “I have a plan,” he responded in a very Castiel-like fashion. 

Chris quirked a brow in disbelief, “You do?” 

Giving a cut nod, Misha turned his attention back to the house. “Come on,” he directed as he crouched down and peered past Chris in through the slats in the sliding glass door to be sure that no one was there that might see them before quickly making his way to the other side. 

“Come on,” he hissed again when he looked back to find Chris still in the same spot that he was before, staring at him in a rather godsmacked fashion.

“So Jeremy Tate was givin’ up for adoption when he was two, his mother just left him on the Firehouse door step and took off,” Morgan explained to Hotch as he stood in the conference room of the police station. 

“We need to have Garcia see if she can locate who Jeremy’s adoptive parents are,” Hotchner responded. 

“I already called her,” Derek replied with a nod. 

“Good,” Hotch murmured. “Maybe we can find out a little more about him and see if this is guy might very well be who our unsub really is.” 

“Agent Hotchner,” a woman’s voice called from the doorway, gaining the agent’s attention. 

“Misha Collins made a call into the department, I was on another line, but it showed on the caller ID,” she informed. 

“Thank you,” Hotchner returned as he reached into his jacket pocket for his cell phone. 

He ran down the list of numbers he had in his phone having programmed Misha’s number in it when they’d decided to have the Ackles’ and Jared stay at the Collins home. He pressed the call button and waited for the cell to ring as he brought the phone up to his ear. 

“Misha?” Hotchner inquired when the line was picked up but it seemed as though no one was there. 

“Misha!” he called again into the line that seemed to be filled with nothing but muffled sounds. 

Pulling the cell from his ear, he hit the disconnect button as his gaze met Derek’s. “We need get out there,” he directed with a pointed glance at Derek as well as past him at the other agents. 

With a nod from Prentiss they all headed for the door, running down the hall toward the front door of the station. 

“We need back up,” Hotchner called as he passed the front desk. 

“Right away,” the girl behind the desk replied and a moment later the call went out for all available officers to report to the Ackles’ home to meet with Agent Hotchner.

  
  


Having paused in his actions at the sound of someone knocking at the front door and ringing the bell, the tip of his blade pressed dangerously close to the artery in Jared’s throat. It was only after all signs that someone had been there had passed that their assailant returned his attention to Jared and he allowed his gaze to thoughtfully roam over Jared’s tear streaked features. 

“Now where were we?” he purred maliciously, a cruel smile slowly curving his lips.

“Killing me,” Jared responded, nostrils flaring and a muscle in his jaw pulsing as he clenched it. 

The sociopath snickered softly as he nodded. “Right,” he agreed. 

His gaze shifted from Jared’s face to watch the movement of his knife as he dragged the blade along the long column of Jared’s throat. 

Jared swallowed hard, his own eyes dropping to the movement of the man’s hand as he slid the sharp blade along his throat. “Just do it alright,” he snapped through clenched teeth, squeezing his eyes closed as he awaited the pain of having his throat slashed. 

The psychopath’s eyes lifted from watching the movement of the blade, having almost been transfixed by the sight of the gleaming metal against the tanned skin of Jared’s throat. His lips parted as if to speak only to press together once more as the sound of Danneel weeping drew his attention, his head turning in her direction. 

Jared pried his eyes open when the pain never came and his gaze fell first to the man in front of him before he followed the mad man’s gaze to Danneel. 

“No,” he commanded as the man pulled up to his full height and turned in Danneel’s direction. 

“Leave her alone, it’s me you want, remember?” he spat as his gaze anxiously darted between his assailant and Danneel. 

The sociopath nodded even as he started toward Danneel, his gaze fixed on her. “All in due time,” he assured, still nodding. 

The sociopath made his way past Jensen’s seemingly unconscious form, his head hanging forward limply while blood continued to steadily seep from the wound in his thigh. 

Reaching Danneel, their assailant bent down over her and lifted the blade to the side of her throat. He grinned at the way she whimpered and watched lewdly as her chest heaved with her fearfully panted breaths which caused her chest to rise and fall heavily, accentuating and pulling his depraved attention to her full bosom. 

Danneel’s eyes darted between her seemingly dead husband and the mad man walking toward her. Her heart twisted in her chest as she gazed at Jensen and a whimper broke from her lips, her tears streaming steadily down her cheeks. Her heart pounded in her chest and she panted fearfully as she looked up at their attacker and shifted slightly in her chair, struggling in vain for freedom against the ropes holding her captive. 

“Please,” she begged pathetically, her voice trembling. “Please just let us go.”

Chris swore angrily under his breath and followed Misha’s lead making his way past the sliding glass door. Once they were both past it, Misha jerked his head to the side signaling Chris to follow before he continued forward, making his way around to the other side of the house. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Chris hissed as he followed Misha. 

“There’s a balcony over here that leads into Jen and Danneel’s bedroom upstairs,” Misha responded. 

Chris’ brow creased in response to Misha’s words and he heaved a heavy sigh when the two of them stopped below the balcony. He shook his head as he looked Misha. “I don’t wanna know how you know that,” he mumbled half to himself as he turned his head and lifted his gaze to the balcony. 

Misha smirked at Chris. “You’d be amazed by the things I know,” he responded before lifting his own eyes toward the balcony.

Chris made a disgruntled sound deep in his throat somewhere between a grunt and a tisk but the retort that was on the tip of his tongue died away as he stared up at the shattered sliding glass doors. “Uh, that sliding door wasn’t always busted in, was it?” Chris asked warily. 

“Definitely not,” Misha responded, his brow creased with worry, the muscle in his jaw twitching. 

“Okay,” Chris replied as he slowly tore his gaze from the broken doors and the sheer maroon hued drapes with their intricate gold weavings throughout flapping in the breeze. “So now what?” 

Misha turned his attention away from the balcony to look over at Chris with a slight shrug. “I thought maybe we could climb up the trellis,” he responded with a nod toward the white lattice work trellis. “And then we’d be inside.” 

Chris quirked a brow, “Okay, and then what?” 

Misha shrugged again as he eyed Chris up and down. “I don’t know, you play Eliot don’t you?” 

Chris frowned, brow creasing with confusion. “Yeah, what the hell does that have anything to do with it?” 

“Well, we can sneak into wherever they are and you can beat up the bad guy,” Misha reasoned simply. 

“I can…” Chris began to retort incredulously only to stop himself from continuing as he pressed his lips together in a straight disgruntled line and glared at Misha. 

“Yeah, well you play a damn angel so why don’t you just blink us up there and smite the bad guy?” he countered, flinging an arm toward the balcony. 

Misha pressed his own lips into a thin line as he eyed Chris. “Okay, fine,” he relented. “Look over that way for a couple minutes,” he instructed as he lifted an arm and user his index finger to point toward the back area of the yard. 

Chris frowned harder. “Why?” 

“So I can climb up the trellis without you seeing me do it,” Misha explained. “It’s how I teleport on the show, they just swing the camera away for a second,” he concluded simply. 

Chris huffed in annoyed aggravation. “Some angel,” he scoffed as he turned away from Misha and began storming toward the trellis. 

Misha smirked at Chris’ back and moved to follow him, pausing as Chris reached the trellis. He lifted his brows and tilted his head to the side in a very Castiel-esque fashion as Chris stood there eyeing it contemplatively. 

“Problem?” he inquired. 

“What?” Chris asked distractedly as he turned his head and looked aggravatedly back at Misha briefly. “No,” he replied before Misha had the chance to repeat himself. “I’m just wonderin’ how sturdy this thing is.” 

Misha shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to try it and see,” he responded. “You go first.” 

Chris’ head snapped around to glare at Misha before he turned back while uttering obscenities regarding a half wit angel under his breath and reached up above his head for one of the holes in the lattice work, hoisting himself up by it as he wedged his cowboy booted foot in one of the holes further down. 

Misha watched Chris as he climbed slowly up the lattice work. He waited until Chris reached the balcony to grab hold of the wooden lattice himself and wedge his tennis shoed clad foot into one of the holes. 

“Now what?” Chris called down, unsure how to bridge the gap between himself and the balcony. 

“Now jump over onto the balcony,” Misha responded. 

Chris glared down at Misha giving an aggravated huff before returning his attention to the situation at hand, reaching out with one hand for the railing of the balcony. 

“Stupid friggin’…” he mumbled between grunts of exertion as he tugged himself over into the railing them nearly fell onto the balcony. 

“See?” Misha said, his lips curved into a wide grin as he began to climb. “Piece ’a cake.” 

Chris caught himself before he fell flat on his back onto the balcony floor and managed to only wind up staggering a moment before he pressed his hands to the railing, looking down at Misha disgruntledly. 

“Piece ’a cake my ass,” he retorted with an annoyed huff. 

Misha chuckled. “Aw, come on, it wasn’t that bad,” he responded jovially. 

“Yeah, I wanna see you do it,” Chris replied tauntingly. 

Misha paused in climbing to look up at Chris with a grin. “Look away and I’ll teleport up there.” 

Chris scoffed. “You know that isn’t really teleporting, right?” 

Misha’s smile melted away as he stared at Chris. “It isn’t?”

Chris huffed in annoyance and pulled away from the railing shaking his head at the apparent buffoon he’d been stuck with as a partner in all this. “Just hurry up an’ get up here,” he grumbled. 

Misha snickered softly and continued to climb. Reaching the balcony he deftly reached for the railing and pulled himself over onto it then allowed his feet to dangle over the edge toward the floor of the balcony and hopped down from the railing, the entire move relatively graceful compared to Chris’ staggering near fall. 

Chris frowned even more at that fact as he eyed Misha. “How the hell…?”

“Gymnastics,” Misha responded with a shrug of one shoulder. 

Chris huffed softly. “Freak,” he mumbled as he shook his head while turning toward the bedroom. 

Misha only smiled, nonplussed by Chris’ words or his annoyance and followed behind him into the bedroom. 

Chris stopped in the middle of the room to look around at the destruction. “Looks like whoever’s got them started out in here,” he commented. 

Misha’s lips pressed into a thin line as he surveyed the bedroom with a slow nod. “Apparently so,” he agreed. 

“Alright,” Chris began as he turned his attention to Misha, “Now what?” he inquired. 

Misha gave a slight shrug. “Now I’d say we see what we can see,” he responded simply. “And then you head in there and beat the bad guy’s ass.” 

Chris’s brow creased as he gave a perturbed frown. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because you’re ‘the hitter’, me I’m much too fragile to fight, it’s why Castiel just smites them,” Misha reasoned simply. 

Chris scoffed and shook his head. “You realized that’s just a television show, right? My name’s not really Eliot.” 

“Sure, whatever you say,” Misha agreed with a nod and a wink. 

Chris sighed in resignation and rolled his eyes as he shook his head in aggravation. “Just come on,” he grumbled as he headed for the bedroom door.

“Let you go?” the psychopath mocked sweetly. “Now why would I let a pretty thing like you go?” he inquired as he lifted a hand and ran the backs of his fingers down one of her tear damp cheeks. 

Danneel cringed at the sociopath’s touch, recoiling fearfully as she whimpered. “Please,” she wept softly. 

“Mmmmmmm,” the mad man hummed appreciatively. “I beg so pretty, bet you beg for cock just as pretty, huh?” he mused lasciviously. 

“You son of a bitch, get the hell away from her!” Jared growled angrily. 

The psychopath’s head snapped to the side, his angered gaze on Jared. “What the hell are you gonna do about it, ya fuckin’ little pussy?” he sneered. 

He turned his attention back to Danneel then and allowed his hand to slip downward from where it had fallen to her shoulder after he had caressed her face to cup her breast in his hand, squeezing it roughly. 

“Bet you like it rough don’t ya, sweet little thing like you, bet you’re a goddamn animal in the sack,” he mused lewdly. 

“I said get the hell away from her, you sorry bastard!” Jared yelled as he struggled violently against the ropes holding him prisoner. 

The sociopath’s jaw clenched and a muscle in it twitched as he grit his teeth, nostrils flaring as he glared at Danneel, Jared’s words of protection only serving to fuel his anger and hatred. He pulled his hand back from Danneel’s breast and took hold of his knife, bringing it to her chest, the tip of the blade pricking the delicate skin beneath her breast as he held it there before slowly moving it along the contour. 

“Jensen,” Jared murmured anxiously. “Jen,” he repeated while continuing to struggle. “Baby come on, please talk to me,” he coaxed.

“He’s dead,” the mad man snapped, his eyes sliding to the side toward Jared as he spoke the words though he refused to take his focus completely off from Danneel and returned it to her the second the words left his lips. 

Danneel choked back a sob at the idea that her beautiful, wonderful husband was gone, her chest rising and falling faster with her grief as she tried to stifle her tears which slipped through her grasp to pour down her cheeks, leaving salty tracks along the porcelain smooth skin in their wake. 

Jared’s gaze lifted from Jensen’s still form, tears glistening in his own eyes as he fought to contain his sorrow. His throat burned from the sob that he refused to let out and he swallowed hard in an attempt to clear the way it choked him. 

He shook his head in denial and clenched his jaw stubbornly. “No,” he argued brokenly, his voice a mere whisper of breath. 

A wicked chuckle broke from their assailant’s lips as he slid the blade of the knife around to the front of Danneel’s shirt. “You fuck him too?” he inquired with a just of his head to the side toward Jared. 

“Bet you take ’em both don’t ya? Nasty little slut’s what you are,” he sneered. 

Danneel whimpered and shook her head in denial of the mad man’s accusations though otherwise she held perfectly still with the way the knife pricked through her shirt and into the skin over her heart. 

“Now, I asked you a question, pretty lady,” the man growled softly. “I expect an answer.” 

Danneel shook her head again before swallowed hard. “N - n - no,” she stammered fearfully. 

“N - n - no?” the sociopath mocked with a wicked snicker, his brows lifted in question as well as amusement. 

Again, Danneel shook her head adamantly as a whimper of fear left her, her terror plain in the depths of her tear filled brown eyes.

“Okay so now what?” Chris whispered as he and Misha snuck over to the railing along the stair case leading down from the Ackles’ bedroom and crouched low, their eyes glued to what they could see of Danneel at one end behind the wall and Jared at the other. 

Misha slowly pulled his gaze away from their friends to look over at Chris with a frown, brow creased. “You’re not really good with this whole rescue thing, are you?” he responded softly. 

Chris huffed softly and glared back at Misha. “Alright smart ass, just answer the damn question,” he hissed. 

“Well,” Misha began pointedly. “Now we sneak down there and while I am getting them the hell outta here, _you_ distract the bad guy by kicking his ass.” 

Chris glowered at Misha. “What the hell kind of a plan it that?” he demanded incredulously. 

“Well, not a very good one if you don’t keep your voice down,” Misha hissed. “Shhh!” he directed, lifting a finger to his puckered lips. 

“Why the hell does this plan sound like a piece of cake for you and like I’m gonna wind up with a knife in my chest?” Chris scoffed. 

Misha’s lips curled into a wide grin. “Aw, come on, I watch _Leverage_ , you can do it,” he encouraged with yet another infuriating wink. 

“ _Those_ punches don’t hurt like this will,” Chris scoffed disgustedly. 

“Are we doing this or not?” Misha inquired with a lift of his brows. 

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Chris relented with a heavy sigh. “I must be outta my mind listenin’ to you,” he grumbled half to himself as he shook his head and returned his attention to what was going on in the kitchen. 

Misha chuckled softly and lifted a hand, clapping Chris on the back. “You’ll be fine,” he assured. 

“Oh yeah, sure,” Chris grumbled with a roll of his eyes. “Just come on before I come to my senses,” he instructed with a jerk of his head toward the stairs.

The sociopath studied Danneel’s face for a quiet moment before moving the blade to her arm, slicing a long cut from her shoulder downward as far as he could reach, before her arm disappeared behind the chair. 

Danneel screamed with pain and her eyes squeezed tightly closed, tears falling faster down her cheeks as she cried and screamed. The psychopath slapped her hard across the face, hard enough for her head to snap to one side before he reached with his free hand and roughly grabbed her jaw, turning her head back to face him, his fingers digging into her cheeks and jawbone. 

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth or I will gut your fuck boy over there while you watch, slut!” he growled in her face. 

“Leave her the hell alone! It’s me you want remember!” Jared yelled. “Come and get me, you fucking coward!” 

Jared’s words enraged the mad man and he moved the blade to Danneel’s shirt, cutting and roughly tearing it with his hand that had grabbed her face until it was off her body, pooled in tatters around her bound arms and lap. 

Danneel screamed despite herself and cried harder, struggling to get away from the bastard, fear and survival instinct kicking into high gear. 

The assailant moved the knife to the front of her bra next severing it from her body and freeing her breasts to his gaze. He moved his hand to one and squeezed as he groaned lewdly and leaned in, pressing a sloppy kiss to her lips. 

Danneel’s cries were muffled against the man’s lips and she curled her own in disgust, keeping them as closed as possible, her nose wrinkling with revulsion. 

“You, fuckin’ son of a bitch!” Jared roared as he struggled violently, his chair teetering back and forth a couple of times before he managed to pull up onto his toes and stand though he remained bond to the chair, his arms tied behind it and ankles to the legs. Jared’s movements caught the sociopath’s attention and pulled it away from Danneel. He quickly pulled to his full height and turned, heading angrily toward Jared, his hand clenched tightly around the butt of the knife he held. 

Jared teetered unsteadily on his toes a moment before he fell forward, his head connecting with the side of the counter before he fell face first against the hard wood floor with a hard thudding smack. A grunt of pain left him at first and blood could be seen against the light wood hue of marble at the counter’s edge from where he’d hit before falling the remainder of the way to the floor. He now lay limply, his head turned to one side, a deep gash at one corner of his forehead and his body almost hanging from the ropes tying him to the chair. 

Misha had been hiding behind the sofa at one end of the kitchen opening and Chris had moved to the other, across the room and behind the loveseat, it was the distraction of Jared standing that Chris used as a signal for him to strike. Luckily while they had been snooping around he’d located Jensen’s baseball bat and now, darted out from behind the loveseat, bat raised like he was going to hit a home run as he ran full speed into the kitchen. Misha waited for the first crack of the bat and with it, he scurried into the kitchen and over to Danneel. 

“Shh,” he soothed as he reached her side and crouched, glancing up briefly at the fight that was going on only a few feet away between Chris and the psychopath. 

Looking back at Danneel, really looking at her; Misha’s expression softened at the sight of all the bruises and cuts that peppered her face and the tear streaks along her dirtied cheeks. He glanced down briefly before diverting his eyes and shrugging off his jacket, placing it over her backward and tucked it behind her shoulders so that wouldn’t fall for modesty’s sake before making his way around her to cut the ropes binding her to the chair. 

Danneel blinked away the blurriness from her tears when she thought she saw Misha heading her way, her heart skipped a beat and when the crack of the bat nearly deafened her, her head snapped toward the sound fearfully only to gasp in a soft breath of shock to see Chris whaling on the son of a bitch who had broken into her and Jensen’s home. She whimpered softly as Misha crouched beside her chair, her attention returning to him and fresh tear rolled down her cheeks at the almost reverent way he covered her up. 

She wasn’t sure why, after all it was a stupid thing to do in this situation, and she could only blame it on the fact that she was likely slightly hysterical but the stupid little alien from Bugs Bunny on Misha’s t-shirt drew a teary chuckle from between her lips that melted into a sob. 

She whimpered again and shook her head when he started to move around her, drawing Misha’s attention back to her face, gazing up at her questioningly. 

“J - Jen,” she stammered, shaking with fear and the aftermath of everything that had happened.

“Get Jensen out of here first,” she begged, her bottom lip trembling as another fresh onslaught of tears began to fall from her eyes. 

Misha slowly pulled his eyes from Danneel and looked over at Jensen. His eyes widened a second later as he noted the way Jensen sat limply in the chair, his head bowed forward. It was then that he noted the leg wound and gasped in a breath, scurrying over to him. He was still crouched down as he reached Jensen and he lifted a hand, pressing his index and middle finger to the pulse point in Jensen’s throat. 

Noting the thin line of Misha‘s lips as he crouched there for a moment with his fingers against her husband‘s throat, Danneel sucked in a ragged breath, a sob lodged in her throat though her features crumbled and tears fell harder from her eyes. “Is he dead?” she inquired brokenly. 

Misha tore his eyes from Jensen’s bowed features and turned his head toward Danneel, slowly shaking it. 

“No,” he assured. “He’s not dead.” 

_But he’s not real good either,_ he thought but refrained from speaking the words. 

Danneel cried harder though this time there were happy tears mixed in with the others. “Get…get him out of here, Mish, please,” she murmured. 

Misha nodded. “I will,” he vowed. “And then I’ll come back for you.” 

Danneel nodded as she sniffled and fought in vain to banish her tears but they just seemed intent to fall no matter what she did. 

Pulling his fingers from Jensen’s throat, Misha reached for the fastenings to his belt and quickly pulled it free. He pulled to his full height then and dashed around the other side of the counter and began searching the drawers until he found the kitchen towels bringing one back with him as he hurried back to Jensen’s side. Crouching he pressed the towel to the gaping hole in Jensen’s thigh and wrapped his belt around it, tightening it securely in place. 

Jensen groaned in response to the pain that shot through his leg when Misha tightened his belt around it and he pried his eyes open to mere slits, gazing at Misha almost drunkenly. 

“It’s okay, I’m gonna get you outta here,” Misha promised.

Jensen’s head turned drunkenly toward Danneel and his eyes met her tearful ones, her lip quivering as she searched his face lovingly. “S’okay, m’Elta,” he croaked hoarsely. 

Turning his attention back to Misha, Jensen shook his head. “Danni,” he wheezed. “Get Danni out first.”

The exploding sound of something shattering drew Misha’s attention upward toward the fight and he paused a moment to be sure that Chris was alright since it was hard to tell just who had broken what in the tangle of limbs and crack of fists however the bat lay broken now on the floor. 

Misha pulled his eyes from the fight and returned his attention to Jensen. “I will, I’m gonna come back for her as soon as I get you outta here,” he explained. 

Jensen shook his head slightly, as best as he was able. “No, Danni first,” he reiterated. 

Misha looked over at Danneel and sighed before looking back at Jensen, giving a firm nod. “Alright,” he promised. “But I’m gonna untie both of you before I go.” 

He moved around to the back of Jensen’s chair then and began sawing through the ropes with his pocket knife. As they fell away from Jensen’s arms they hang off the sides of the chair limply but Misha forced himself not to think too hard on that and trusted the tourniquet to do its job. Moving to Danneel’s chair he cut the ropes at her wrists. It was then that he noted the blood dripping off her fingers from the long gash on her arm. 

“Shit,” he muttered half to himself. 

He quickly moved around to the front and cut both their ankles free then pulled to his full height and hurriedly returned to the towel drawer grabbing one before making his way swiftly back to Danneel’s side. Pressing the cotton to her wound, he wrapped the towel around her arm then crouched slightly as he slid his arm in under her knees and behind her upper back, lifting her up into his arms. He started to turn toward the door only to see that his path was blocked that way by the fight that was taking place in the background of what he had been doing. Muttering under his breath about the poor choice of fight area he turned the other way and headed into the living room from the back and made his way through that room instead as he headed for the front door. 

Danneel’s arms encircled Misha’s neck as he lifted her from the chair and her head lowered to lay against his chest, her face tucked in against his neck as though that might not only shut out the rest of the world but what had happened before he and Chris had arrived. 

Misha could feel Danneel trembling in his arms and he continued to murmur comforting words to her as he made his way quickly, each step purposeful, toward the door. Reaching it he wanted to curse the Ackles’ locks which were hard to open while holding a woman in one’s arms, but some how, after fumbling for a minute or two, he managed to get them unlocked. Danneel didn’t seem to notice however as she clung to him in an almost childlike manner that had Misha’s own eyed misting a little. 

Reaching the door he had a bit of a problem reaching for the handle with the hand beneath Danneel’s knees, trying not to hit any part of her against the walls. Turning the knob, he pulled the door, stumbling back slightly as it opened inward before moving forward once more once he and Danneel were clear of it. The screen door handle was even harder to master, but at least that door opened outward so he had only to kick the metal bottom area and the door flew back on its hinges allowing him ample room to carry Danneel outside. 

The second his feet hit the porch and the screen door slammed closed behind him, Misha came to an abrupt halt at what he saw; two ambulances and about half a dozen police cruisers along with a swat team van all tearing into the Ackles’ front yard, as well as the two black Broncos that the BAU team used. By the time Misha stepped forward and off the porch, Hotchner was running toward him with Agent Morgan hot on his heels. 

“Is he in there?” Hotch asked as he came to a step in front of Misha, his gaze lowering to Danneel briefly before lifting once more to meet Misha’s eyes. 

“You okay, baby girl?” Morgan asked Danneel to which she nodded but snuggled closer to Misha’s chest, gripping him tighter. 

Misha nodded in response to Agent Hotchner’s question, “Yeah, he’s got Jensen and Jared tied up. Jen’s in pretty bad shape, I dunno about Jared. Chris is in there kickin’ the bastard’s ass though.” 

Before Misha could say more his attention was pulled away as two paramedics rushed toward he and Danni. He moved toward them and allowed one of the men to take Danneel from his arms. “It’s okay,” he reassured with a nod as his and Danneel’s eyes met when she didn’t seem to want to release him. 

Reluctantly she allowed the paramedic to take her and move her from Misha’s arms onto a gurney where they hooked an oxygen mask to her face and began to treat her numerous cuts. 

Misha watched them for a moment before turning around and heading back toward the front door of the Ackles’ home, intent on getting Jensen out of there just like he had promised Danneel he would.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared has been out of the hospital for six weeks and life at Jensen and Danneel’s place is pretty good. Supernatural has gone on without him, as per his request, but Jared still receives fan mail nearly every day. Danneel continues to spoil the hell out of him and what she doesn’t do, Jensen rushes in, when he isn’t on set, and takes care of. Together they’ve managed to give Jared a place where he can feel safe and loved and cared for while he continues to heal and grow stronger both physically as well as emotionally. All things considered, things seem to be going pretty well for Jared Padalecki. That is until a death threat inscribed into the flesh of a murder victim directs the police right back to Jared’s doorstep. It’s then that Agent Hotchner and his team are called back to the City of Angels, where once again they must hunt down a mad man before it’s too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Criminal Minds crossover with the “Supernatural brat pack”. It is a sequel to the fiction entitled **Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder**. A special thanks goes out once again to Jeff Davis for the creation of Criminal Minds, the set up and some of the words used within this fiction. A special thanks also goes out The Mark Gordon Company and CBS Television/ABC Studios. 
> 
> **Please note:** The author has taken liberties with some of the “facts” herein. Also, please be advised that included within this chapter are pictures/images that I created myself as well as tiggeratl1’s banner and grave stone divider.

_"The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone."_ ~ Harriet Beecher Stowe.

Amidst the hustle and bustle officers and swat members running and taking positions around the house, Agent Morgan caught sight of Misha heading back toward the front door of the Ackles’ home and quickly ran toward him, “Whoa,” he called out as he stepped into Misha’s path, blocking his path. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”

Misha’s eyes moved from the front door to meet Derek’s. “I’m going to get my friend outta there,” he informed the agent with a hard edge of determination to his voice. He glanced briefly toward Danneel where still the lay on the gurney the paramedics had placed her on as they treated for her injuries, though now she was wrapped up in a warm blanket. “I promised Danni that’s I’d get him out of there,” he explained as he retuned his attention to Derek. “And I’m not goin’ back on my word,” he added with a slow shake of his head. 

“Yeah well, we’ll get him outta there, you just wait here,” the agent responded with a nod. “Go be with Danneel,” he urged. “She needs you right now, we got this,” he assured. 

Misha turned his head once more and looked back at Danneel, his eyes roving over her and he didn’t miss the tears that were leaving salty tracks in their wake on her cheeks. Turning his head back, his azure eyes met Derek’s dark ones as he slowly shook his head. “I can’t do that,” he retorted. “I’m keeping my promise.” 

“Derek!” Hotchner’s voice broke the stalemate silence between the two men and had Agent Morgan looking away from Misha and toward the other Agent. 

It was just enough of a distraction to allow Misha to side step Derek and head for the door at a jog. He pulled the screen door open and reached for the door handle despite Hotchner’s command that he not go back in there. Pushing open the front door of the Ackles’ home, Misha did just that regardless of the consequences. 

“Where the hell?” Derek mumbled as he looked back over his shoulder for Misha. 

He huffed irritatedly as he returned his attention to Hotchner. “He went back in,” he murmured disgustedly. 

The sounds of fighting still filled the air inside as Misha marched purposefully through the living room and around the corner into the kitchen, hurrying over to Jensen’s side. If it were possible, Jensen looked even worse than he had before Misha had left his side to take Danneel out of the house. 

“Come on, buddy,” he murmured as he wrapped an arm around Jensen’s shoulders and slipped one under his knees. 

“When I’m laid up in traction for this, you’re gonna owe me big,” he warned playfully despite the lack of response from Jensen other than a soft pained groan as his body was jostled. 

Jensen smelled of a combination of his cologne, sweat and the coppery tang of blood which still oozed slowly from the gash in his thigh despite the tourniquet that Misha had tied around the area. Misha’s nose crinkled at the smell and as he hefted Jensen up into his arms, with more than just a little trouble, grunting and staggering as he did so, he looked down at Jensen’s face. 

“That’s a…really interesting…smell….you have there,” he panted, his words broken up with the exertion of lifting his large friend. 

“M’gonna get a frickin’ hernia,” he wheezed as he turned and stumble stepped toward the living room. 

Looking back over his shoulder at Chris was definitely not a good idea since it sent Misha headlong into the wall, causing Jensen’s body to bump into it. The only good part about the entire accident was the fact that Jensen groaned again, the sound reassuring Misha that he wasn’t carrying out a dead body. 

Staggering back from the wall, Misha gave up on trying to see how Chris was doing and what the hell had become of Jared. Instead he focused on putting one foot in front of the other, despite the way his legs shook and felt as though they wanted to crumble like a deck of cards as he made his way toward the front door. 

“You need….to….go on a diet,” Misha growled breathlessly through his teeth as he reached the door, each word punctuated by a grunt of exertion. 

No longer worried about being gentle and careful as he opened the front door, turning the knob with the hand under Jensen’s legs; he staggered backward as he opened it and nearly fell on his ass with Jensen atop of him. Luckily however he managed to catch himself before that happened. Once that was out of the way, he moved forward and allowed Jensen’s foot to hit the latch on the screen door to open it and pushed them through, using the fact that he was walking despite the fact that the door kept trying to spring back at them. As he stepped past the screen door and was now standing on the porch, it was at this moment that his legs finally gave out and he crumpled to the ground with Jensen draped across his lap. 

Shouts went up around them and it didn’t take long for the paramedics and the BAU team to circle Misha and Jensen, the paramedics working on Jensen’s injuries while Misha held them on his lap. 

“Jensen?” Danneel called weakly from where she lay, turning her head in an attempt to look back toward the source of commotion. 

“What the hell were you thinking!?” Derek demanded. “I told you that _we_ would handle it. You could have gotten yourself killed.” 

Misha shrugged a careless shoulder. “I didn’t, and he’s out, that’s what matters,” he reasoned. 

“What’s it like in there?” Hotchner inquired, his lips pressed into a thin firm line. 

Misha shrugged again. “I dunno, I was kind of preoccupied. They’re still fighting though.” 

“Chris and our unsub?” clarified Hotchner. 

At Misha’s nod, Hotchner gave one of his own. “What about Jared?” he inquired. 

Misha shook his head. “I didn’t see Jared,” he admitted. “I was just working on carrying Jen outta there.” 

Misha watched as the paramedics carefully lifted Jensen’s body onto a second gurney and began to wheel him away, toward the ambulance and next to Danneel. 

“Let’s get in there,” Hotchner muttered. 

Misha tore his gaze away after seeing that Danni and Jensen had been reunited such as it were and climbed to his feet with a pained groan. “Yep, friggin’ hernia,” he grumbled half under his breath. 

He placed a hand to the side of his stomach to ease the throbbing pain as he hobbled his way off the porch and over to Jensen and Danneel, taking Danni’s hand within his free one as he reached her, the action pulling her attention from Jensen and over to him. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he promised gently with a reassuring nod when her dark fear filled eyes met his. 

Danneel sniffled and nodded emphatically in an attempt to be brave though her lips, which were turned down sadly at the corners, were pressed tightly together as she struggled to hold back the sob that burned at the back of her throat. 

She tore her eyes from Misha and turned her head, reaching out to grab Jensen’s limp hand with her own as a soft whimper pushed past her throat.

The BAU team along with more than a half dozen swat team members readied themselves to bust through the front door of the Ackles’ home, guns drawn and at the ready.

Agent Derek Morgan lead men inside as he turned the knob and quickly threw open the door. 

Shouts of “Freeze FBI” filled the otherwise quiet of the house. There were no sounds of a fight going on, no sounds of anything and the BAU team exchanged looks before spreading out to check the house. It was Rossi who found Chris laid out on the kitchen floor, a deep gash across his forehead, bloody lip and a stab wound in his chest, luckily it was easy to see that it had missed his heart though it likely had punctured a lung if the way he was raggedly breathing meant anything. He knelt down beside the wounded man and laid a hand to Chris’ shoulder. 

“Easy,” he murmured before lifting his head. 

“I got one in here!” he called out. “We need paramedics!” 

Chris wheezed and nodded. “He…the bastard….got…away,” he rasped breathlessly between grimaces and gulped breaths. “He took…Jared…” he grunted hoarsely. 

Rossi gave a nod and gently patted Chris’ shoulder. “Just take it easy, son,” he comforted. 

Agent Rossi looked up at the sound of feet scurrying toward them and pulled to his feet as another team of paramedics, different from the ones outside with Jensen and Danneel, surrounded Chris and quickly went to work stabilizing him. 

Hotchner made his way over to Agent Rossi and glanced down at Chris briefly before lifting his gaze to the senior agent. “He have any idea where they are?” 

David Rossi shook his head. “Just that our unsub escaped with Jared,” he responded bleakly. 

Hotchner heaved a heavy sigh and turned toward the sound of voices from his team announcing other rooms of the house all clear. It was then that one of the officers from the swat team stepped up to Agent Hotchner. 

“Sir, we discovered an open side door. It seems to lead into the woods beside the house, I’ve sent my men to scour the area,” he reported. 

Hotchner nodded. “Good,” he muttered almost to himself. “Thank you,” he murmured with a nod before turning his attention back to Rossi. 

“We need to find out for certain if this is Jeremy or not and if it is, we need a location,” he murmured, muscle twitching in his jaw. 

“I’ll get Derek to get a hold of Garcia,” Rossi promised quietly before starting past Chris just as they were transferring him to a stretcher. 

“We’re gonna have to take this one to the hospital along with the other two,” one of the paramedics informed Hotchner. 

Nodding, Hotchner glanced at the paramedic. “Go ahead,” he agreed. 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll go with Chris,” Prentiss offered with a glance at Hotchner as she walked into the room. 

She followed the paramedics as they wheeled Chris out of the house and toward the second waiting ambulance. 

“Hey, let’s get these guys moving,” the same paramedic that had spoken up outside told those that were still working on Jensen’s leg. 

One glanced up with a nod. “Okay, we’re ready,” he affirmed with a nod before he started to roll the gurney toward the back of the ambulance while another paramedic climbed inside to help lift Jensen inside. 

Misha glanced over at Chris on the stretcher and lifted his brows. “Hey, that’s not how Eliot does it on Leverage,” he taunted. 

Chris lifted a hand; middle finger extended and flipped Misha off. “Shut up,” he rasped but it was likely too quiet for Misha to hear, however the gesture itself had Misha grinning widely. 

Danneel whimpered as she was forced to release Jensen’s hand when they moved him and she clung to Misha’s which drew Misha’s attention away from Chris and back to her. He pulled his hand from the side of his stomach and gently smoothed back her hair from her brow as he noted the wide eyed look of panic on her face. 

“I want to go with him,” she demanded with a slight franticness to her voice. 

Misha nodded his understanding and agreement and was about to tell the paramedics as much when one of them walked back over to them, once they had Jensen safely inside the back of the ambulance, and beat him to the punch. 

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” the paramedic that had wheeled Jensen over said. “You’re both going together,” he assured. 

She clung to Misha’s hand, “Don’t leave us,” she begged softly. 

Misha shook his head. “Not a chance,” he promised gently, offering her a soft comforting smile.

Dogs barked loudly as they made their way through the woods, led by the swat units who were scouring the woods at the side of the Ackles’ property for any sign or scent of Jared. Sadly and much to their dismay this had been the one area of the house they had not covered until last and it was the side that the perpetrator had apparently used to make his escape with his victim.

A few yards away, the unsub struggled with Jared’s unconscious body as he drug him through the woods, grunting and muttering cuss words as he mode his way along; heading for the van that awaited him on the other side of the densely wooded area. He’d cased the place weeks ago in preparation for his attack and had found that if one were to venture through the woods next to the Ackles’ residence they would come out at an old and seemingly deserted gravel road. It was there that he had his accomplice waiting for him, having told her to be there if he didn’t return from the job he’d set himself to do within a couple of hours to be there with the motor running, ready to high tail it out of the area. The old white van had expired tags and it was beaten up and half rusted out, but it would serve their purpose fine. All they needed it for was to haul the Padalecki guy’s body to what would, in the end, be his grave. 

He’d managed to knock the son of a bitch out after he had taken care of the other guy that he’d been fighting with, not that he’d had to do much since the idiot had knocked himself out at first when his head had connected with the marble bar top and Jared had a deep oozing gash on his forehead to prove it. Edging toward the clearing, the assailant glanced back over his shoulder as he heard the van’s engine revving. 

“Hurry up, baby! There are cops all over the place!” called the woman inside the van as she watched Jeremy drag the guy’s large carcass from the woods. 

Jeremy grunted with the effort of dragging the large man over to the van’s sliding door. “I’m workin’ on it,” he wheezed. “He’s heavier ’n he looks.” 

“What, you can’t do as good’a job as your Daddy? _He_ wouldn’t of had this much trouble takin’ care of _one_ man,” she spat vindictively. 

Jeremy allowed Jared’s body to drop from his arms as his jaw clenched and he marched around the side of the van to the driver’s side window, the woman inside cringing back as he reached her. He reached for the door handle which she quickly locked though that did nothing to detour him and reached up, grabbing a handful of her dishwater blond hair through the window and yanking it hard enough to cause the woman to cry out in pain. 

“You watch your fuckin’ mouth, you stupid cunt! If it wasn’t for you my Daddy might not be dead right now!” he growled fiercely. 

“Jeremy please,” she sobbed. “I loved your Daddy,” she argued. 

Jeremy released the woman’s hair and spit into her face. “Some mother you are, abandonin’ me just like you did my Dad,” he spat venomously. 

“Now get the damn door open so I can get this sack of shit inside before the police catch up to us,” he demanded.

  
  


Ten minutes later the officers and dogs were out of luck, the canines had picked up Jared’s scent but the trail went cold at the dirt road they came to on the other side of the woods. Tire tracks, fresh ones, lead the officers to believe that their man had a get away car waiting for him. It was a new cadet an officer Malloy who brought the good news he’d discovered back to Agent Hotchner who stood in the front yard, a grim and yet determined look etched into his tired features.

“The trail went cold at an old dirt road, probably the guy had a get away car waitin’ but luckily I happen to see an old white van slinkin’ around here just before I pulled in, I got the license plate number, I figured it’d be worth checkin’ out,” he told the agent. 

Hotchner nodded. “Run the plate, see what you come up with,” he agreed. 

It was then that Agent Morgan’s cell rang. “Hey, gorgeous,” Penelope greeted cheerfully with Derek answered the call. 

“Please tell me you got something’ for me, baby girl,” he responded. 

“I do,” she confirmed. “I found out that Jeremy Hertzog was adopted by the Martin family in nineteen ninety one. Apparently he was the one to find the little guy on the front porch of the police station. Jeremy lived with them until his eighteenth birthday. Sad thing is, after that, he goes off the grid. It’s like he disappeared into thin air,” she explained. 

“Or went into hiding,” Morgan mumbled half to himself. “You wouldn’t have a number for the Martin family would ya?” he inquired. 

Penelope smiled on the other end of the line. “Got ya something better than that, I got an address.”

“You are my Queen, baby girl,” he responded happily with a grin as he pulled out a small note pad and pen from his pocket. “Okay, hit me with it.” 

“Eleven oh five East Leon street in Malibu,” she said. 

“Malibu?” Derek asked slightly taken aback at the neighborhood. 

“Looks like our boy moved up in the world,” Garcia mused with a shrug that Derek couldn’t see. 

“Apparently,” Agent Morgan mused to himself. “Okay, thanks, darlin’,” he murmured. “I owe you one,” he added with a smile before hanging up his cell. 

Turning around, Derek met Hotchner’s eyes with his own. “I got an address for Jeremy’s adoptive parents.” 

Hotchner nodded. “Good,” he replied before starting toward one of the Broncos. 

He paused there next to the driver’s side door and looked back toward the door of the Ackles’ home with regret before allowing his head to fall forward, muscle twitching in his jaw as he tried to push back the frustration and anger that warred inside him for dominance. 

Lifting his head, his gaze met Derek’s once more. “Let’s get outta here,” he muttered softly. 

“Hey,” Rossi murmured as he stepped up to Hotchner’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get him,” he encouraged. 

Hotchner nodded. “But will it be in time?” he mused worriedly before turning and pulling open the door to the Bronco, sliding in behind the wheel.

Misha stood in the ER, pacing anxiously between Chris, Jensen and Danneel’s beds while doctors and nurses worked on each of them in turn. It wasn’t long until he heard that both Jensen and Chris would be taken to the Operating Room; Chris for his stab wound and Jensen for the same as they wanted to be sure to close up the wound and give him a transfusion of blood since he had lost so much. Danneel, they said, could be transferred to a hospital room after they’d finished with the rape test. It was those words that had Misha lifting his worried eyes to her face though she turned it to the side, squeezing her eyes closed, despite which, her tears slipped free anyway. They asked Misha to wait out in the waiting room while they preformed the test though he remained rooted to the spot, his side eyed gaze locked on Danneel until finally one of the nurses began to physically move Misha backward, all the while assuring him that they would alert him as soon as they were finished and that he could go with her to her room.

Since it was the seedier side of town no one even batted an eye as Jared’s unconscious body was dragged from the van and into the small ramshackle house.

“Get the door, get the goddamn door!” Jeremy spat irritatedly at his mother as he dragged Jared’s body by his hair and the back of his shirt. 

“You’re gonna rip his hair clean out, Jeremy,” Renee huffed disgustedly with an irritated shake of her head as she hurried past them both to the door which she unlocked and held open. 

“What the hell do you care?” Jeremy grumbled. “Bastard’s gonna be dead soon enough anyway, I don’t think he’s gonna be needin’ it then,” he reasoned with a slight chuckle.

Pulling Jared across the threshold, Renee poked her head out the door and looked left and right to be sure that no one was paying them any attention then slammed the door closed, throwing the multitude of locks into place. 

“Is the room ready?” Jeremy asked as he looked up at his mother from under his brows. 

“Course the room’s ready,” she huffed again. “What the hell do you think I been doin’ all this time? We were just damn lucky those FBI’s weren’t any nosier than they were.”

Jeremy chuckled as he nodded and pulled Jared into a small bedroom off to the right. “Yeah, ya done good, ma,” he praised. “Dad would have been proud,” he assured affectionately with a nod before returning his attention back to the limp body he was dragging.

Two hours later, one of the black Broncos pulled into the driveway of one of the nice beachfront homes in Malibu. Agent Hotchner and Morgan exchanged a look as they reached for their respective doors, popping them open, unfolding themselves from inside the SUV the same time that Reid and Rossi stepped out from the back seat. Their doors closed almost simultaneously as the agents turned and regarded the house. It was Hotchner that led the others up to the front door, ringing the doorbell.

“Definitely an improvement from Renee Hertzog’s place,” Morgan mumbled half under his breath.

His words earned a stern look from Hotchner just before the front door to the Martin’s home opened, a middle aged bald man with warm brown eyes and a kind smile greeting them. 

“May I help you?” he inquired as his eyes moved from one agent to the next. 

“Hello, I’m Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, “And I’m with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit,” Agent Hotchner greeted. “This is my team, Senior Agent David Rossi, Agent Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid; we’d like to talk to you about your son, Jeremy.”

A petite dark haired woman stepped up to Mr. Martin’s side and exchanged worried looks with him as he placed his arm around her shoulders before they both turned their attentions to the agents. 

“Please come in,” Mr. Martin invited with a nod as he and his wife stepped back to give them room.

An hour and a half later one of the nurses finally came out of the ER and Misha’s head jerked up from where it had been bowed, his hands clasped in front of him with worry.

“Mr. Collins?” she inquired gently. 

Misha pulled to his feet as he nodded and quickly crossed the distance between himself and the nurse. “Is Danneel alright? Was she raped? Can I see her?” he asked in rapid fire succession. 

The nurse, an older lady with grey running through her light brown hair smiled comfortingly at Misha as she reached out and patted him gently on the shoulder. “Mrs. Ackles is fine. The tests suggest that she was _not_ raped but we’re sending some samples away to make sure. She’s in her room now, second floor, room two fourteen,” she responded calmly with a nod. “You may go see her.” 

Misha leaned in and pressed a harried kiss to the woman’s cheek. “You’re awesome, thanks,” he responded anxiously. He started to turn, a wide grin on his face before stopping himself, his smile sliding away. “And my other friends? Jensen Ackles and Chris Kane?” he inquired. 

The nurse shook her head. “I haven’t heard any word yet, dear. But be patient. These things take time,” she soothed. 

Misha gave a nod, not that her words really had done their purpose and made him feel any better. “Thank you,” he repeated. 

Turning, he quickly made his way out of the ER and into the inner hallway of the hospital that lead to the elevators which would take him to the patient rooms. Getting into the elevator that seemed as though it knew he was in need of it as it slid open as he walked up, never mind that there were a couple of interns exiting before he stepped inside, Misha anxiously pushed the button for the second floor. 

When the elevator arrived on the second floor, Misha hurried out of it, his attention going straight to the sign across from him on the wall directing visitors to the correct pathways to find the rooms they were searching for. 

“Two fourteen,” he mumbled to himself. “Right,” he muttered, turning in that direction, making his way down the hall. 

When he reached Danneel’s room, he knocked softly on the doorframe before entering, gaining Danneel’s attention from where she reclined in her hospital bed. There was a bandage that covered a lot of her forehead and a few smaller ones dotting her flesh from her face, down her neck and along her arms. He couldn’t see anything any lower as they had the blanket pulled up to her waist and the hospital gown covered the rest of her. 

She offered him a small tentative smile as he entered. “Hey,” she greeted softly. 

“Hey,” he responded with a small smile of his own as he stepped over to the side of her bed and reached for her hand, taking it within his own. 

“How’s Jen?” she inquired. 

“He, uh,” Misha began only to stop and shake his head.” I dunno,” he admitted with a lift of his brows as he looked away from her briefly with a sigh before returning his eyes to hers. “I haven’t heard anything but they just keep telling me that these things take time,” he explained. 

Danneel’s gaze lowered sadly and her bottom lip quivered slightly though otherwise she didn’t respond. 

“Hey,” Misha murmured, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, causing her to lift her tearful gaze back to his. 

“He’s gonna be alright, Danni” he assured with a nod, “I know it.” 

Danneel nodded and forced a smile for Misha’s sake through her tears. “Yeah,” she agreed, voice choked. “He’s a fighter,” she rasped hoarsely as a single tear slipped down one cheek. 

“You bet he is,” Misha confirmed with a wink. 

She sniffled softly and swallowed hard. “What,” she cleared her throat, “What about Jared?” she inquired. 

Misha shook his head, his lips pulled into a grim thin line as he shook his head. “I dunno, Dan,” he murmured hoarsely. “I just dunno…”

“Does Jeremy still live with you?” Reid asked, his brow creasing with curiosity as he and Rossi took the proffered seat on the sofa while Hotchner and Morgan remained standing.

Mr. Martin glanced over at his wife before returning his attention to the agent, shaking his head dejectedly. “No,” he admitted. 

“We,” Mrs. Martin began with a glance at her husband. “Cole and I, we thought it would be best to let Jeremy know he was adopted, that we _chose_ him,” she explained. “We waited until his eighteenth birthday, when we thought that he’d be old and wise enough to understand.” 

“Only he didn‘t take it too well,” Cole sighed as he gazed at the floor, remembering the fight he and Jeremy had had afterward. 

“Oh?” Reid inquired. 

Cole shook his head as he met the doctor’s eyes. “He was angry,” he explained. “Angry at us for his real parents leaving him, just angry at the world.”

“He was desperate to find out who they were,” Mrs. Martin added. “He moved out a couple weeks later.” 

“We haven’t heard from him since,” Cole concluded with a slow shake of his head. 

One look around the Martin home gave no doubt to the love that the Martin’s had had for their adopted son, pictures lined the shelves and nearly every flat surface. Pictures from his childhood as well as more recent ones, the last of them being from about the time that Jeremy graduated, giving credence to their words.

The small bedroom’s window was boarded up from the outside and every piece of furniture had been taken out of the room, every article of any kind, the only thing inside was a small twin sized bed and the large man that now lay bound to it, arms and legs fastened to the posts at each end of the bed, and a dirty old a rag that was tied around his mouth served as a gag.

Jeremy and Renee stood over the bed, gazing down at Jared’s unconscious body for a long moment before Jeremy turned his attention to his to his mother. “Where’s that old belt of Dad’s you said you had?” he inquired. 

Renee looked curiously over at her son, her brow creased with confusion. “Why?” she replied before looking back at Jared. “He ain’t going no where, ya got him tied to the bed enough, let’s just blow the place up like you said and be done with it.” 

Jeremy turned toward his mother; his jaw clenched angrily and grabbed a handful of her dirty blond hair, yanking it hard to the side, making her cry out in pain. “What did I say, woman!?” he demanded angrily through clenched teeth before he bashed her head into the wall. 

“Go get me that belt!” he screamed at the top of his lungs in her ear as he released his hold on her hair. 

Renee cowered there against the wall, trembling with fear as tears ran down her cheeks. She nodded vigorously as a soft whimper left her and she stumbled forward on shaking legs. She remained cringed with fear and stayed close to the wall, her side scraping against it as she moved out of the small bedroom and into the one beside it.

Jeremy’s lips pulled into a cold sneer as he returned his attention to Jared at the sound of Jared’s pained groan. He watched as Jared’s head rolled from side to side against the threadbare uncased pillow that was little more than pancake thin beneath his head. 

“Jensen,” Jared croaked softly as his head rolled from side to side. 

Jeremy stepped closer to the end of the bed. “Your boy’s dead,” he responded cruelly. 

Jared’s eyes snapped open at the sound of the psychopath’s voice and he shrank back against the bed and tried to move a hand only for the ropes to hold fast, causing him to turn his head and look over at his wrist as he struggled frantically a moment then looked back at his captor with hate in his eyes. 

Jeremy laughed as he nodded. “Bled him dry while that hot little wife of his watched,” he continued with a shrug. “It’s too bad you missed it.”

Jared felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room, his chest ached and he panted heavily, chest rising and falling with each breath as tears welled up in his eyes. “No,” he whispered brokenly as he shook his head slowly in denial. 

Jeremy gave a careless shrug. “Fine, don’t believe me, it’s not like you’re gonna be around much longer anyway.” 

Renee then hurried back into the room with the belt that Jeremy had asked for in her hands. She quickly and almost fearfully handed it off to him; the leather belt was thick and had braided ropes of leather within the artwork, at the end there was a large rebel flag belt buckle. Jeremy took the thing from his mother without a word though his lips curved upward into a wicked malicious grin as he wrapped one end around his hand, the heavy buckle swinging back and forth like a pendulum, and turned his attention back to Jared and stepped up closer to the bed. 

Jared’s eyes widened fearfully as they fell to the large and rather deadly looking buckle and he shrunk back against the worn and beaten mattress beneath him as though it might save him from what this mad man was about to do. 

The sound of the sociopath’s depraved laughter caused Jared’s eyes to dart upward to his assailant’s face, his own gaze wide eyed and beseeching. “No,” he begged hoarsely as he shook his head, “No.” 

“Oh yeah, asshole, you’re gonna pay for what you did to my Father,” the psychopath sneered as he drew his hand that the end of the belt was wrapped around back. “And I’m not as nice as my Daddy was to only mark up that pretty face of yours,” he laughed viciously before brining his arm forward in a downward motion. 

The buckle struck against Jared’s ribs while the rest of the leather strap smacked hard across his stomach causing Jared to jerk and growl out his pain from between clenched teeth. 

The psychopath continued gleefully to whip Jared, spurred by Jared’s pain, the way he fought not to scream, the heavy rise and fall of his chest and the way he tensed and arched against the bonds holding him. 

When the buckle’s horn caught on Jared’s tee shirt ripping it open, the sight of Jared’s bared flesh beneath seemed to only excite the mad man who beat him, causing the sociopath to concentrate more on the exposed flesh, whipping Jared’s chest and sides. Jared was certain that the psychopath had managed to puncture a lung with as hard as it was starting to be to breathe, each breath wheezing out of him between pained screams he could no longer hold back. His smooth tan hued skin was now criss-crossed with angry red lines that were quickly turning into large welts. 

Jared’s body jerked drastically when the buckle found home against his groin and a loud pained scream broke from his lips which, once again, seemed to excite the idiot into concentrating on that area for a while before returning his attention to the rest of Jared’s body. 

He screamed nearly as loud when the buckle tore into his face at one point; after which he could feel the wet stickiness and coppery tang of blood oozing down his face, the memory of another time, another mad man disfiguring his cheek had Jared’s whole body to tremble with fear and quite likely, do to blood loss, shock. 

Jared wasn’t sure how long it lasted before the bastard wore himself out, but when it finally ended Jared felt as though his entire body was on fire. He could feel the bloody sheets clinging to his body beneath him as he lay there whimpering softly due to the severity of the pain, the likes of which was so severe that he couldn’t be entirely certain that he hadn’t passed out at least once from it already during the ordeal. He fought to draw in air, each breath wheezing out of him though his head swam from lack of oxygen as no matter how hard he tried to breathe it never seemed to be enough. 

Renee had turned hear head away from the sight as her son had begun to whip Jared and it hadn’t been long once Jared has begun to scream that she had hastily fled the room. She returned now, moving slowly, hesitantly into the room, peering almost fearfully at her son where he stood bent at the waist, his hands on his knees, the now blood smeared belt dangling from one of his fists, as he fought to catch his breath, winded from his exhaustion. 

“Jeremy, sweetie,” she called tentatively, her voice soft and soothing. “Did you…? I mean, whenever you’re ready I’ve got everything packed.”

It was another two hours after Danneel had gotten into her room before they wheeled Jensen and Chris out of their respective operating rooms and into their hospital room. Ironically enough, they were able to allow the boys to share one room which was located just down the hall from Danneel’s.

The team of nurses and orderlies moved each man into his respective hospital bed from the surgical gurney as gently as possible. Chris was already awake and arguing that he could do it himself despite the fact that the hospital staff seemed intent on not hearing him, while Jensen remained blissfully asleep in the bed next to Chris’. He was covered up to the waist but with his injured leg out, which was wrapped from hip to just past his knee in a clean white bandage. 

Where Jensen wore a hospital gown, Chris was bare chested with a pair of scrub pants for modesties sake. A bandage wrapped around his middle and over one shoulder covering the area where he had been stabbed and there was a clean white bandage around his head, causing his hair to poke out from around it at odd angles, due to the concussion he’d received when the sociopath had knocked his head against the marble statue in the Ackles’ kitchen. 

Once the hospital staff finished getting both Chris and Jensen situated and as comfortable as possible, they left the room, allowing Chris to relax for the first time in what seemed like days however he knew it was likely only hours ago that everything had happened. He turned his head and looked over at Jensen with concern. 

“Don’t worry, man, it’s gonna be alright,” he assured his unconscious friend, his voice the same husky drawl that made the women who watched him on _Leverage_ swoon. 

He turned his head straight and stared up at the blacked screen of the television. “Hotch’ll find Jare,” he murmured with a nod, muscle in his jaw twitching with determination.

“So somehow Jeremy found out that Tate was his father,” Agent Morgan mused as they drove away from the Martin home.

“Yeah, but usually when you find out your father’s a sociopath you don’t exactly join in on the fun,” Agent Rossi reasoned. 

“Unless we were already dealing with one in the making,” Hotchner cut in worriedly, his face set in grim lines. 

“Mr. Martin did confirm that Jeremy was cruel to the family dog before it went missing,” Rossi agreed. 

“No doubt a victim of the sick son of a bitch,” Morgan grumbled disgustedly. 

“Get a hold of Garcia and see if she can dig up where this guy has been,” Hotchner directed. 

Morgan nodded in response and reached into his pocket for his cell to do as he was asked. 

“I think we might need to pay anther visit to Ms. Hertzog. I have a feeling she knows more about Jeremy than she was saying,” Hotchner concluded.

“Mrs. Ackles,” one of Danneel’s nurses said gently as she stepped into her hospital room. “Your husband is out of surgery and doing well,” she informed her with a kind smile. “He is going to be weak for a while yet due to the blood loss, but otherwise he seems to be doing fine.”

Tears of joy filled Danneel’s eyes and she heaved a breath of relief which only served in causing the tears she’d struggled to hold at bay to fall, making slow tracks down her cheeks though her lips were curved into a wide smile. 

“Thank you,” she murmured through her tears. 

Misha grinned broadly as he sighed in relief. “What about Chris?” he inquired. “Chris Kane.” 

The nurse’s dark eyes swung to Misha. “Mr. Kane is doing very well and he’s awake actually. He and Mr. Ackles are in the same room, just down the hall if you would like to go see them.”

“Yes,” Danneel agreed as she pulled herself up straighter in the bed. 

“Let me get you a wheelchair and your friend can wheel you,” the nurse directed gently but firmly. 

Her gaze moved once more to Misha. “It’s just down the hall room two oh nine,” she murmured with a nod. 

“Now let me see about that chair,” she reiterated as she glanced back at Danneel with a kind smile before disappearing out the door.

Jeremy turned his head, sweat dripping down his face, his hair matted against his temples. Straightening to his full height he nodded to his mother before casting a glance back over at the bloody mess that was Jared Padalecki.

“Sounds good,” he responded. “He sure as hell ain’t goin’ anywhere,” he chuckled as he turned and headed toward his mother, ushering her out of the room with a wide grin curling his lips, proud of the beating he had given Jared. “Let’s blow this place sky high,” he crooned cheerfully as the bedroom door slammed closed behind him. 

Jared whimpered and allowed his head to painfully roll to one side as he struggled to breathe, his chest rising and falling unevenly and not nearly enough to give his body the life sustaining oxygen it needed. 

_Jensen…_ his mind called out the name though his lips and his throat refused to form the word, his lungs unable to grasp enough air to let them.

Misha wheeled Danneel up to Jensen’s bedside, close enough where she could take his hand in hers. The tears that had gathered in her eyes once again as they’d reached the door to his and Chris’ room now fell freely down her cheeks as a soft sob broke from her throat and she dipped her head, burying her face against the back of Jensen’s pale, caramel freckled hand.

“Any word from Hotch?” Chris inquired softly as he looked from the two lovebirds over to Misha. 

Misha shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything since we were picked up at the house.” 

“Prentiss road in the ambulance with me, but I haven’t seen her since,” Chris responded grimly. 

“You think maybe she took off?” Misha inquired. “Because I never saw her.” 

“Who the hell knows,” Chris spat irritatedly. 

As if on queue Agent Prentiss walked into Jensen and Chris’ hospital room carrying a paper tray filled with coffees. “Stopped by the cafeteria on my way up here once I heard you were out of surgery,” she explained as she crossed the room to Chris’ bedside, handing both he and Misha a cup. 

Danneel lifted her head at the sound of Prentiss’ voice and she hiccupped in a couple of breaths before trying to speak. “Jared,” she murmured questioningly. “Have you found Jared?” 

Prentiss looked back at Danneel at a slight loss as to what to tell her. Finally she settled on the truth and shook her head. “No,” she admitted. “But Hotch and the others are looking,” she promised gently. “Garcia is trying to find the last known location of this Jeremy guy,” she explained. “And if anyone can find him, it’s Garcia,” she finished with a slightly forced encouraging smile and nod despite her own doubts and the fear that this time they might be too late.

  
  


Jared struggled weakly against the ropes that held him though each movement cost him greatly as pain shot through his body and stole more air from us lungs.

“Please…” he wheezed hoarsely, his voice a bare whisper. “Help me…”

“Ready, baby?” Renee asked with a smile as she stepped into the living room and up to her son where he knelt, his body bent over the devise he was working on, the digital clock that had once been his father’s strapped to the front.

Jeremy looked up and nodded to his mother. “Yeah, did you call the TV reporters and tell ’em what I told ya to?” he inquired. 

Renee nodded. “I did exactly as you said,” she affirmed. “I told ’em that I wanted to die due to what your Daddy had done and that it was all my fault, that I wanted you to have a better life, just like I said to those agents before, and without me around you might have a chance at it,” she nodded.

Jeremy smiled as he nodded. “All I gotta do is hit this button,” he said as he pointed to a single knob on the device and the countdown starts. We’ve got _one_ minute from that time to get our asses out the door, into the car and the hell outta dodge before this thing blows up and turns everything around it to dust.” 

Renee smiled and reached out, combing her fingers through her son’s hair lovingly. “Your Daddy would be so proud of you, Jeremy,” she cooed proudly. 

Jeremy smiled affectionately and pulled to his feet. “Got everything?” he inquired. 

“Nothing much worth anything here,” she responded. “Few clothes and your Daddy’s picture and you, that’s all I need,” Renee responded simply as she nodded. 

Jeremy nodded and pressed the detonator, starting the countdown. He swiftly made his way toward the front door of the small ramshackle house with his mother hurrying along behind him, only once he’d stepped outside, just before she had the chance to, he slammed the door closed in her face. 

“Jeremy!” she cried fearfully as she frantically struggled with the door knob that wouldn‘t budge. 

There was the sound of nails being hammered into wood from the other side and the thought that her son might be sealing her in here with the bomb had tears filling her eyes and her heart hammering with terror.

Silence followed and she pressed an ear to the door, hoping that maybe he was still there that it was just some kind of sick joke. 

“Jeremy! Baby, please!” she called gently as tears ran down her cheeks. 

When there was no answer from her son, no door magically opening to save her, she slowly sank to her knees next to the door. 

“Die, bitch,” Jeremy’s muffled voice sneered contemptuously from the other side of the door. “It was all your fault that my Daddy died. Yours and that bastard in there with ya, and now you’re both gonna burn!” 

The sound of silence followed along with that of the van’s motor roaring to life. 

Renee Hertzog wept softly and turned her head toward the bomb that her son had made, having no idea how to turn it off. A sob left her as she watched the numbers count down. 

_**Forty-five, forty-four, forty-three, forty-two, forty-one, thirty-nine, thirty-eight, thirty-seven, thirty-six…** _

“That bitch,” Derek spat as he hung up his cell from talking with Garcia.

He whipped the wheel and turned the Bronco around and pressed the accelerator down hard. 

“Uh,” Reid chuckled nervously. “What, uh, what seems to be the problem?”

Agent Rossi turned the flashing light in the dash on without argument, waiting for Derek to explain what he’d discovered. 

“That son of a bitch has been living at his Renee Hertzog’s house since the day he left the Martin’s. He found out about his birth mother easier than he could his birth father since Renee Hertzog never put his father’s name on the birth certificate, but apparently he found her and she must have told him about the guy. Garcia managed to find letters that were addressed to Tate from one of the last times he was in jail with the return address being Renee’s.” 

“Jeremy was writing to his father in prison,” Hotchner concluded. “What was it he was in for at the time?” 

“Assault and battery, grand larceny, you name it,” Morgan spat disgustedly. 

“You think that’s where he has Jared?” Reid inquired. 

“That’s where I’d put my money,” Agent Morgan mumbled. 

Hotchner sighed heavily. “How fast do you think you can get us to Renee Hertzog’s?” he inquired. 

“Couple of minutes tops,” Derek responded distractedly as he weaved in and out of traffic and cut down side roads to bypass traffic jams. 

He was forced to try and dodge a News truck that seemed to be heading in the same direction, but whoever was driving the thing was good and as they came to the last leg of their journey, cut Derek off causing Agent Morgan to have to follow him onto the street in which the Hertzog house was located. 

“When we’re finished here, somebody needs to arrest that asshole,” he spat half under his breath in frustration. 

As the TV News crew van and the BAU team’s black Bronco pulled up to the Hertzog home it was just in time to see it explode in a great ball of fire, sending debris flying everywhere, crashing the automobile windows and setting off car alarms nearby. 

The agents inside the Bronco dove for cover from the shattering glass of the windows and some of the News crew climbed out of the back rather than exiting out the sides once the van had stopped rocking due to the draft the explosion had caused. When the dust settled somewhat, the BAU team climbed from the Bronco and stared in frustration and anguish at the burning home knowing in their gut that this time they had been moments too late to save Jared Padalecki.

Jensen’s lashes fluttered and his head rolled to one side, his brow creasing as the last minutes of what had occurred before he had blacked out raced through his mind; the manic touching Danneel, threatening Jared, his own pain and dizziness from loss of blood. His eyes snapped open with a gasp and his body jerked slightly, expecting to find himself still bound to one of his and Danneel’s kitchen chairs. His gaze darted about the room, slowly registering that they were all there, all safe.

Danneel gasped in a breath when she felt Jensen’s body jerk and her eyes snapped to his face, a breath of relief leaving her as her eyes met his. She smiled lovingly though tears once again burned at the corners of her eyes. 

“Elta,” Jensen croaked hoarsely, his voice weak and soft as he tightened his grip on her hand. 

Danneel nodded. “Yeah, baby, it’s me,” she murmured and leaned over him as much as she could, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“Where…where’s Jare?” he rasped as she pulled her head back. 

Danneel shook her head, her eyes soft and sad as she stifled a whimper that wanted to break free at the thought of their Jared still at the hands of that mad man. 

Jensen’s wide worried gaze swung to Prentiss at Danneel’s response then to Misha and over to Chris. His heart hammered in his chest and he found it suddenly hard to breathe as though the room were closing in on him, his sides heaving with his heavy breaths. 

“Somebody tell me what the hell happened to Jared,” he demanded fearfully. 

Misha looked toward Chris who hung his head, shaking it sadly. Looking back at Jensen, Misha’s lips parted to answer his friend only to have Agent Prentiss cut him off. 

“We don’t know,” she responded frankly. “Chris,” she said with a nod in his direction, “fought with the unsub but he got away,” she explained. 

“And Jared, what? Disappeared?” Jensen spat sarcastically. 

Prentiss sighed heavily in resignation. “The unsub took Jared when he fled,” she responded candidly. 

Jensen struggled to sit up and tried to actually get out of bed only to have both Misha and Prentiss rush to his side and all but force him back to bed. 

Danneel gasped, her eyes wide and frantic at the thought of Jensen getting up and going after that maniac especially after what had already happened. She grasped at him frantically in an attempt to keep him in bed, but in his determination, he slipped from her grasp. 

“You are in no condition to help him, Jensen,” Prentiss admonished sternly. “Believe me, we are doing everything within our power to help your…” her eyes shifted to Danneel briefly as she searched for the right words before looking back at Jensen, “partner.” 

Jensen slowly eased back into the bed and Danneel sniffled softly, throwing her arms around him once he’d laid back down. She kissed his chest and nuzzled at his throat and her tears that Jensen could both hear and feel made his heart ache and he moved one hand to her hair, combing his fingers through it. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed. “I’m not gonna leave you,” he murmured. 

Releasing a breath, Prentiss turned her attention to Misha and Chris before glancing up at the darkened television. 

“How about some TV, huh? Maybe a good comedy,” she mused as she searched for the remote. 

Stepping over to Chris’s bedside she reached for the remote that lay against the mattress next to his pillows and with a glance at Chris, their eyes meeting for a moment that had them both smirking, she turned the television on and drew her gaze away from Chris to the television. 

Despite her good intentions, what came to life on the screen as it went from black to having a picture was the evening news, the reporter standing before an inferno as she reported the events. 

“I’m standing in front of the home of one Renee Hertzog; she called the station earlier this evening to report that she would do this very thing. Her claim was that she was Jeremy Martin’s biological mother. The father none other than the Picasso Mangler. It was here, she said that she lived when the child was conceived and it was here that she was going to die, likely by her own son’s hands, she told reporters,” the woman announced. 

The blonde haired reported walked a few feet as the camera followed her to show a very grim faced Agent Hotchner. 

“Can you tell us why exactly it is that the FBI’s behavioral Analysis unit is here, Agent Hotchner?” she asked before thrusting the microphone in his face. 

Hotch batted the microphone away and Agent Morgan shouted that they had no response as the team climbed back into the Bronco. 

Jensen stared at the television with wide eyes that burned with tears. His chest rose and fell heavily as he hyperventilated his breaths, his heart crumbling inside his chest. He heard Danneel crying, but he was too far gone into his own sorrow to notice where she was or to realize he should comfort her. 

Misha slumped, luckily landing into the chair that was behind him rather than the floor not that he likely would have cared as he stared godsmacked up at the television, his own eyes misting. Chris softly swore up a blue streak as he hung his head and batted away the moisture that gathered at the corners of his eyes. 

None of them needed to hear a response from Hotchner to know that their Jared had been in that house and none of them needed it spelled out, especially with the way Hotch punched at the side of the Bronco before tugging the door open angrily and climbing inside, they all knew that their Jared was dead.

Hours later, after the fire fighters had gotten the blaze under control and there were only small smoldering embers left, the property taped off with crime scene tape and no one left in sight, an owl hooted over head and flew across the moon at the same moment that an ember rolled away from a charred board as something beneath it moved just slightly.

There beneath the rubble and charred boards, a small mound that seemed to be part of the house remained though it was still too hot for anyone to excavate and see if there were any remains left to salvage. And it was from that mound that the very tips of four filth and blood coated fingers emerged; fresh air hitting the skin and causing tears to course down their owner’s cheeks. 

A hoarse and barely there whisper quiet voice choked out a single word weakly, “Jensen…”

  
[](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)   
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)   



End file.
